Book 35 - Divided We Stand
by GailDunn2
Summary: WARNING: CONTAINS ADULT THEMES AND SITUATIONS. How will everyone cope with the new order, once the clock strikes Midnight on New Year's Eve? Monsters come in many forms, some more monstrous than others.
1. All I Really Want For Christmas

Chapter 1 - All I Really Want For Christmas

Gail had pulled out all the stops to make sure that this would be the biggest, most spectacular Christmas celebration that any of them had ever had. But this time, Cas had been much more prepared for the onslaught. For one thing, they had been able to start their preparations earlier this year, and for another, Gail wasn't above asking him to use his Godly powers to get some things done. Cas had also asked for volunteers from the ranks of the Academy students to help with various tasks, and they were only too glad to assist the Almighty. Those sorts of activities were a lot more preferable than learning to fight, and to kill.

Before they had the family celebration at their house, though, Gail had persuaded Cas to have a party in Heaven, too, somewhat akin to an office party. She had planned some games, and some music. They'd brought in a karaoke machine, and many of the Angels were dancing. Since they didn't eat or drink, she'd figured a lot of the younger ones would enjoy that. Cas had given a speech at her urging, and it had been met with a very enthusiastic response.

The couple had stayed for a while, and then they had slipped out discreetly, leaving the Angels to enjoy themselves. They went to their house on Earth, where Cas had secretly gone when Gail had been talking to some of the Academy recruits at the party. He should make the rounds, Cas had told her. Technically, he was Heaven's boss, and he wanted to make sure that he personally wished everyone a Merry Christmas. Gail had understood, of course. And Cas had meant what he'd said, but he'd also taken an extra couple of minutes to sneak over to their house and leave Gail her surprise.

As soon as they'd winked into the house, Gail had started to laugh. Cas had hung sprigs of mistletoe all over the house.

"Since we have everyone coming here tomorrow, I thought we might have our own celebration here tonight," Cas had told her.

Gail had turned to him, smiling. Sounded good to her. Ever since they'd hosted the Never Have I Ever party here at the house back in November, both of them had been acutely aware of the clock ticking on their marriage. Everyone was going to gather here for a joyous Christmas celebration, but Cas and Gail were also going to use the opportunity to tell everyone about what was going on, and what would have to happen in the New Year.

But until then, they had decided that they were going to spend all of their remaining time together and be as romantic with each other as possible during that time. So they had spent the evening before Christmas Eve Day christening just about every clump of mistletoe in the place.

The family fun began when Sam and Dean arrived Christmas Eve Day. Many of the Angels were already there, and Gail had conspired to have a laugh at Dean's expense. So as soon as the brothers walked in the door, Gail said, "Sam, I'm glad you're here. Liz and I were looking online for that recipe, but we can't find it."

"It's under the 'healthier living' section," Sam said, flashing her a quick grin behind Dean's back.

"Wait, what?" Dean said suspiciously. "'Healthier living'? What kind of b.s. is that? It's Christmas!"

"Here, give me your coats," Gail said, trying to keep a straight face. As the brothers shrugged them off, Liz came down the hallway. "Oh, good, Sam's here," Gail's Angel friend said. "The PETA website has about ten recipes for tofu turkey. You're going to have to help us pick the best one."

"PETA? Tofu?" Dean said angrily. "What the hell, Gail? You'd better be kidding me about this!"

"What's the matter, Dean?" Liz asked him in an innocent tone. "We talked about it, and we decided it was cruel to eat turkey."

"Yeah, Dean," Sam said to his brother earnestly. "There are some great recipes online. You won't even notice the difference, we promise."

Cas came into the hallway. "Hello, Dean. Hello, Sam. Merry Christmas," he said to his friends.

"Yeah, I don't think so," Dean sputtered. "How could you let them do this, Cas? I thought you were my friend!"

"Do what?" Cas asked, his forehead wrinkling.

Liz was the first one to crack. The wounded, indignant look on Dean's face was just too funny. She started to giggle.

Gail shook her head at her Angel friend. "Liz, you're such a lightweight," Gail scolded her. "I was hoping the joke would last for more than a few seconds."

Dean looked at the women, and then at his brother, who was grinning now. "Gotcha," Sam said.

"You did not," Dean insisted. "I knew you guys were joking."

"Yeah? Tell that to your face," Gail said, handing the brothers' coats to Cas.

They all moved into the main living room area. "Did you get him?" Frank asked with an anticipatory smile.

"We totally got him," Gail said, and she and Frank high-fived.

As Dean went from person to person, asserting that nobody had gotten him because he'd known all along that they were joking, Nicole walked up to him, giving him a hug and a kiss. "I've got Cas and Gail on notice that I might have to leave suddenly," she said quietly.

"Your Gramps?" Dean asked his girlfriend.

Nicole nodded. "Yeah. They told me at the nursing home that he's been having some good days, but he's also been having some bad days. Cas said that he could pop me over there, if he takes a turn for the worse. But let's not say anything to anybody, okay? I don't want to put a damper on anyone's Christmas. It'll be sad, but he's lived a long, full life."

"Do you want me to go with you?" Dean said, giving her a squeeze.

"No, it's okay," Nicole replied. "Let's face it; he probably won't even know who I am, let alone anyone else. Besides, I don't want to keep you from enjoying your yummy tofu turkey." Her lips twitched.

"Oh, ha, ha," Dean retorted. "I knew they were joking."

"Sure you did. Of course you did," Nicole reassured him, smirking. "Come on, let's go get you a drink. You could probably use one, after that scare you didn't get."

Once everyone was gathered in the living room area, Dean said, "Hey, Pookie, do me a favour?"

Frank gave him a baleful stare. "You know, it's not too late to get Gail started on a tofu turkey."

Dean shrugged, grinning. "That's an empty threat, and you know it. There's no way you're gonna eat a tofu turkey."

Frank sighed. His friend was right, of course. "What can I do you for?" he asked.

"See those big boxes standing up on the left side of the tree?" Dean said. "One's for Pete, and one's for Angela. I thought maybe we could open them now, 'cause those kids are wimps. They'll probably be in bed soon, am I right?"

Frank was bemused. "OK, let's see what Uncle Dean got you guys," he said to the babies. He handed one box to Jody to open, and the other one to Carolyn. The mothers exchanged smiles, then ripped open the packages.

"What are these?" Jody asked curiously, once she had the wrapping off.

"They're action figures of the characters in 'Supernatural'," Dean told her. "They're from me and Nicole."

"Peter and Angela are only babies, Dean," Carolyn said to him.

"I know," he replied. "So what? Just leave 'em in the boxes until they get a little bit older. They're gonna have a lot of fun with those things, though. Here. Look."

Dean got off his chair and sat down on the floor. "Here, give me those," he said to the women. As everyone started to grin, Dean took the figures out of the boxes. "Here's Sammy, and me, and Cas. There's even a Crowley. Oh, and see that bigger box there? Give it here."

Carolyn handed it over, and Dean took a die-cast model of the Impala out of the box. "There's my Baby," he said lovingly. He looked at Jody. "Don't worry; there's one there for Angela, too. I don't discriminate. Besides, Frank needs to know what a really good car looks like."

"Oh, hardy-har-har. Look at you, playing with dolls," Frank retorted.

"They're not dolls, they're action figures," Dean corrected him. "Heroes, with the coolest car in the universe."

"A car so cool, he even got a model for himself," Sam chipped in. "And I'm not so sure he didn't get a little Dean doll, while he was at it."

Dean glared at his brother for a moment, and then he grabbed the Sam figurine. "Hi, I'm Sam Winchester. I'm fifteen feet tall, and I think I'm the smartest guy that ever lived. But, my big brother Dean is actually way smarter than me. Better-looking, too," Dean said, gesturing with "Sam".

Then he grabbed the Cas figure. "Hello, Dean," he said in a gravelly voice. "I need your help on a case."

Now, Dean picked his own figure up. "OK, Cas," he said, sighing. "But, maybe after I help you once again, you could promote me to Saint Dean, or something."

"I'm scared, Dean," he made the Sam figure say.

"It's okay, Sammy," Dean said, gesturing with his own action figure. "As soon as I finish researching the lore and going to the weapons room, you and Cas can meet me in the garage. Don't worry, I'll protect you guys, like I always do." He grabbed the Cas and Sam figures with one hand, moving them behind the one of himself. "Thank you, Dean," he rasped in Cas's voice. "We can always count on you to be there for us when we're frightened."

Then, Dean grabbed the Crowley figure. "'Allo, boys," he said, in an atrocious English accent. "What are you doing at the blimey crossroads? Get away from here! This is my bloody Kingdom! Prepare to fight!"

Dean started bashing the figurines together, making fighting noises. "Get him, Dean!" the faux Sam exhorted his brother. "Take this, you evil douchebag," faux Dean said, knocking his action figure against Crowley's.

The fight went on for a couple of minutes as everyone watching was having a harder and harder time trying not to laugh out loud. This was just too funny.

Dean was really getting into it now. He smashed his action figure against Crowley's one more time, and sent it flying across the room. "Cor blimey, mate!" faux Crowley cried, as Gail finally cracked up laughing. "Oh my God, Dean, that's the worst accent I've ever heard!" she exclaimed, holding her stomach now.

"Although, we do applaud the outcome of the fight," Cas added, looking at the spot across the room where Crowley's figurine had landed.

Dean looked at Gail for a minute, and then he reached for another one of the boxes, opening it. "Oh, Cas, I was so scared," Dean said in a high-pitched voice. Now, he was holding a figurine of Gail's character in the upcoming movie. She was enthralled. Sure, Dean was making fun of her, but...she had an action figure?

"Where did you get that?" Gail asked Dean, astonished. "The movie's not even out, yet!"

"Nicole got them," Dean replied. "Everybody working on the movie got advance copies of some of the merchandise that'll be in stores after the premiere."

"Oh my God! That's so cool!" Gail looked at Cas, and then at Frank. "I'm an action figure! I can't believe it! I need one of those."

"Don't worry, I got you one of you, and one of Cas," Dean told her. He grabbed their figurines now, one in each hand. "So, when we leave, you can do this." Dean made kissing noises, moving the figurines together.

"Oh, we'll be doing that once you all leave, don't you worry," Gail told him, looking at Cas. The two of them smiled at each other.

"Why? Why do you want to encourage them like that?" Frank whined.

"Hey, better this - " Dean gestured with the figurines, "- than THAT." He nodded his head in Cas and Gail's direction. Then, he grabbed another box. "Hey, Bobby, toss me Crowley, over there."

"Are ya sure you don't want me to toss him in the fireplace, instead?" Bobby called out, as everybody laughed.

Dean took a red-haired figure out of the box. "Hello, Mother," he had Crowley say.

"Aye, Ferrrrgus," Dean said, gesturing with the Rowena figurine.

"I told you, my name is Crowley," Dean said in his awful British accent. "I don't care, Ferrrrgus," he retorted, in what was apparently supposed to be Rowena's Scottish accent.

Now, Cas and Gail exchanged glances again, but this time, they weren't smiling. Although Dean's little show was extremely entertaining and had everyone laughing right now, this particular tableau was reminding them that they had a couple of very big news items to pass along to their friends and family. But they'd better make sure that no one was eating, or they might just choke when they found out about Crowley and Rowena's true relationship to Gail.

Now, Dean was bonking "Crowley" and "Rowena" together, making them argue with each other in an incredibly convoluted mishmash of accents that didn't actually sound like either one.

Gail was grinning from ear to ear. He was such a child. She looked at Nicole. "I can't believe I'm an action figure," she said to Dean's girlfriend. "And it even looks like me!"

"Little girls are going to be lining up to buy it," Nicole said to her. "Chuck's written you as a very strong character. Not a strong female character; just a strong character. You'll be a great role model for kids."

Gail was incredibly touched by that. "Thank you, Nicole. What a lovely thing to say."

"You're going to be a very popular action figure too, Bobby," Nicole said to their older Angel friend. "Fans of the TV show were begging for your return."

Bobby's beard twitched. "Well, it's like I always say: you've gotta give the people what they want," he quipped, beaming.

"Hey, is there a Bobby in there?" Frank exhorted Dean. "Take him out."

"Why, there shoah is, ya idjit," Dean said, taking the Bobby figure out of its box.

"Who's that supposed to be? Foghorn Leghorn?" Frank said, laughing, as Bobby frowned. Gail and Liz were clutching at each other for support now, because they were laughing so hard. "It's a good thing we're Angels, or I'd be peeing myself right now!" Gail exclaimed, wiping her eyes.

"Oh, Cas, Dean is so funny!" Dean said in his high-pitched voice, grabbing her figurine. "No, he's not. He's an idjit," the Bobby figure said.

"OK, who here is starting to get a little worried about Dean?" Jody joked. "I saw a horror movie like this once, about a ventriloquist who got a little too carried away."

"Yeah, but Dean's not the ventriloquist, he's the dummy," Bobby fumed. He stalked over to where Dean was sitting. "Give me that." He bent down and grabbed the Bobby figure out of Dean's hand.

"Balls," Dean remarked dejectedly, as everyone laughed again. Bobby examined the figure he was holding. "I've gotta admit, he is a handsome fella, though," he said.

The babies were sitting in high chairs, and they were gurgling and wiggling around. "Dean," Angela said, pointing, and Dean grinned. "See?" he said delightedly. "They can't wait to play with them."

"Yeah, if they can pry them out of your hands, first," Jody said, smirking.

"Those kids have no idea what's going on," Tommy pointed out. "Still, they obviously know good entertainment when they see it."

"Yeah? And when did they see it?" Bobby said grumpily.

Gail was still wiping her eyes, trying to collect herself. Her stomach hurt from laughing so much. "OK, that's it," she declared. "Dean is going to have to put on a show for us like this every year. I hope you know you just started a new Christmas tradition."

"Bring it on," Dean said, shrugging. He started to put the figurines away in their boxes.

"Maybe we'll have to send you to a dialect coach, first," Sam said to his brother.

"Oh, yeah? Well, maybe we'll have to send YOU to a dialect coach," Dean said, nonsensically.

"Man, Dean is nuts," Paul commented, rolling his eyes. "Although, I've gotta say, that imitation of Crowley was pretty funny."

"You thought it was funny, did you?" Kevin said coolly. "Oh, yeah. The King of Hell is hilarious."

"Lighten up, Kevin, it's Christmas," Linda admonished her son, and Kevin stared at her. Really? She and Paul were sitting there holding hands, and it was freaking him out. Ever since they'd told him last month that they were seeing each other, everywhere that Kevin went in Heaven, it seemed like they were there, holding hands. He'd even caught them kissing, a couple of times. Yuk. It was unclear exactly what was bothering Kevin about their relationship. Was it the age difference? Or, worse, was it the racial one?

Not only that, but he was getting a bit of a vibe from Paul. Maybe it was just in Kevin's imagination, but he felt like Paul was looking at him strangely much of the time. Ever since Kevin had blurted out at Cas and Gail's party last month that he thought he might be gay, Paul had been acting a little more distant towards him. Or, was Kevin just paranoid, because he wasn't exactly Paul's biggest fan?

Linda was aware of the tension between the two, of course. She was hoping it would sort itself out, in time. She'd been disappointed in herself that her first honest reaction to Kevin's pronouncement hadn't been favourable. But once they'd left the party and gone back up to Heaven, Linda had sent Paul home and then spent the next few hours talking with her son. They had come out of that conversation with a stronger bond, and Linda had told him that she supported him one hundred percent, no matter what his choices turned out to be. It was just too bad that he couldn't seem to afford her the same courtesy. But, she was trying to cut her son some slack. Kevin had never seen her with a man other than his father. That must be difficult. But, Paul made her happy. It was as simple as that. And she wasn't about to apologize for that fact.

As far as Paul was concerned, he was trying to tread lightly around young Kevin. Paul knew that it must be weird for him to see his mom with another guy. But they were all adults here, and Kevin was just going to have to get used to the idea. Paul really liked Linda. She was fun and vivacious, and she also didn't take crap from anybody. Paul wasn't really sure how he personally felt about the fact that Kevin might be gay, but he wasn't really sure that it was any of his business, anyway.

Dean got up off the floor, making a rude gesture at Frank, who was taunting Dean mercilessly about his attempt at doing the accents. Jody gave Dean what Frank would call the "hairy eyeball", but she said nothing. In another half year or so, though, she was going to have to talk to him about that kind of stuff. Angela and Peter were a little too young right now, but it wouldn't be too much longer until they started to imitate everything they saw and heard.

Frank was amused. "I've always wondered why that particular finger is the rude one," he speculated aloud. "Who decides these things, anyway?"

"That's a good point, Frank-in-cense," Gabriel quipped. He waggled his eyebrows at Gail. "In keeping with the Christmas theme." He shook his little finger. "Like, why couldn't it be this one, instead?"

"Oh, I wouldn't do THAT, if I were you," Paul said hastily. "That's a gang signal."

Gabriel looked at Paul, then at his little finger, then back at Paul again. "What? This?" He shook his pinky finger again. "What gang would that be? The Wee-Wee-Wee, All The Way Home gang?"

Paul grinned. "OK, you got me, there. I made that up, just to mess with you."

Gabriel regarded the younger Angel for a moment. He was at a loss for words, which was a rare state for him. He still didn't know exactly how to take Raphael's son.

Cas was circulating throughout the living room now holding two bottles of wine, one in each hand. He was trying to be a good host, offering to replenish peoples' glasses. As usual, the Angels who chose to do so were partaking, and the humans were too, of course. Cas filled Gail's glass first, then Liz's and Jody's, and then he asked Frank if he wanted some.

"No thanks, Cas, I'm good," Frank said, waving his beer in salute. "But I appreciate the sediment," he added, nodding at the nearly-empty bottle Cas was holding.

As everybody was groaning over Frank's pun, Rob piped up, "I was gonna watch people sliding down mountains made of ice on TV, but then I decided they were just a bunch of lugers."

Liz giggled, but Jody rolled her eyes. "You see what I have to put up with every day?" she asked the room.

As Frank moved to high-five his son, Barry grinned. "Gail, can't you just invent an errand for those two, and then lock the door behind them?"

"Then who'll be here to heckle you, when you and Gail sing 'You're The One That I Want', later?" Frank retorted. He was making reference to the fact that Barry had confessed to playing the lead in a local production of "Grease" last month, at Cas and Gail's Never Have I Ever party. Frank put his arm around Rob, hugging his son to him. "Personally, I've never been prouder of this guy."

Rob was smiling now, but truthfully, he had been feeling a little low this Christmas season. His mom and Bobby had both said it was because he had PTSD from what had happened at the compound. And while he had no doubt that that was part of it, Rob was also missing Eric, a lot more than he'd thought he would. He'd never known he had a twin brother, and they had only spent a few days together, but Rob missed him, nonetheless. He wondered how Eric was doing. Hopefully, he was safe. He'd told Rob that he was going to reconsider the way he made his money, but the psychic in Rob knew that his brother was right back at it, as if nothing had ever happened.

Rob wasn't going to let that spoil his Christmas, though. He was lucky enough to be here with the rest of his extended family, and they were having a great time.

A short while later, the babies went down for a nap, and the adults had another round of drinks. Then Cas and Gail exchanged a glance, and Cas cleared his throat to get everyone's attention.

"Gail and I have a couple of things that we need to tell you," Cas told them, as the conversation in the room died down. He sighed. "As I'm sure you all know by now, we have begun to annul our marriage. We have decided to complete the process after this Christmas celebration is over. We will have to live apart for six months, after we formally dissolve our marriage."

"No offense, Cas, but that's the worst-kept secret in town," Frank said. "But because it's Christmas, I won't tell you how dumb I think your ancient rules are."

"Uhhh...I think you just did, Frankenberry," Gabriel said dryly. "But, for the record, I have to say, I tend to agree with you. Especially because I know what they're going to say next."

Frank frowned. "Why? What are you talking about? What are they going to say next?"

"The last step of the annulment ritual," Cas said, trying to keep his voice steady. "There are seven sacred stones. They will be placed in a bag, and then seven of our friends who Gail has picked as designates will pick a stone each. The one who picks the white stone will be married to Gail in a civil ceremony that will last six months in duration. Then, that marriage can be annulled, and then the entire process will be complete."

Everyone sat in stunned silence, and then Frank said, "OK, I retract my earlier statement. THAT is the dumbest thing I've ever heard." He looked at Gail. "So...huh?"

His sister shrugged. "What do you want me to say, Frank? I agree with you. But, I have no choice. I have to do it if I want to marry Cas again."

Frank was shaking his head. Wow. This was idiotic. "So, who are the chosen victims?" he asked her sarcastically.

Gail made a face. "You know, I almost wish that you could be one, just so I could make your life miserable for the next six months," she said tartly.

"Please. Been there, done that," Frank retorted. "And for a lot longer than six months."

Gail did a double-take, and then she smiled. "Okay, I have to admit, that was kind of a good one." Then she looked around the room at everyone. "So, the seven guys I've picked are: Gabriel, Sam, Dean, Chuck, Riley, Kevin, and Efram," she told them.

"OK, hold on a minute," Gabriel said, putting his hands up. "Not for nothing, but, do we get a say in this?"

"Of course you do," Cas said coolly. "Everyone does. But I cannot imagine any reason that any of you would look upon marriage to Gail as anything but a privilege."

Frank raised his hand. "I can! Pick me, pick me!"

"Shut up, Frank. You're not helping," Gail said sharply. Then she sighed. "Look, what Cas is saying is very sweet, but if anybody wants to opt out, I promise not to hold a grudge. But just so you know, it wouldn't be a real marriage. More like a Green Card marriage."

"So, no consummation? I'm out," Gabriel joked, and Liz hit him on the arm. "Ow!" the Archangel complained. "For a pacifist, you sure hit hard."

"He'll do it," Liz said. "Of course he'll do it. Anything to help the two of you get married again," she said to Cas and Gail.

Sam said nothing, but they'd already had this conversation. He and Quinn had broken up now anyway, and even though things had been a little awkward between the three of them at the party, Sam had assured Cas and Gail that he was only interested in helping them out.

So was Dean, but typically, neither he nor Nicole had seriously discussed that he might be one of the seven. Although, to be fair, the movie had just wrapped filming a few days ago, so they hadn't talked much. Nicole looked at Liz, and then at Gail, and then at Dean. "Well...I guess I'd be kind of petty if I raised an objection," Nicole said hesitantly.

"It's just a one in seven chance, anyway," Dean said to his girlfriend, "and even if the worst happened, there wouldn't be anything going on between me and her."

A throw pillow came sailing at Dean, hitting him in the face. "'The worst'? Thanks a lot, Dean!" Gail said.

"There's the problem, right there," Chuck pointed out, grinning. "If any of us sounds too excited about the prospect, our girlfriends will get mad at us, and Cas might smite us. But if we act too reluctant, Gail will get mad. It's a lose-lose proposition."

"I'm not comfortable with this," Laurel said, frowning. "I don't want to be the 'bad guy' here, but Chuck and I just got engaged. I want his first marriage to be to me."

Gail sighed again. "That's perfectly understandable. I'm sorry, Chuck, but I only included you because you're my friend. And truthfully, I had trouble coming up with seven single guys I knew well enough for the list."

Bobby cleared his throat, and Gail looked at him. Now, she wondered if she should feel bad. She'd never even considered him, probably because he was more or less a father figure to them all. But it was pretty much going to be a sham marriage anyway, wasn't it?

She smiled ingratiatingly. "I apologize, Bobby. Would you mind taking Chuck's place, please?" Gail asked him.

Bobby nodded. "Sure, dear."

"All right, then. If everyone else is in agreement, we will hold the choosing ceremony on New Year's Eve," Cas announced. "Then, the civil service will be performed immediately afterwards."

Gail took Cas's hand. "I'm subscribing to the 'soonest begun, soonest done' theory. I figure whoever gets saddled with me is going to want to start the clock ticking as soon as possible," she said dryly.

"Don't say that. It would be a privilege to be married to you," Riley said earnestly, and Kevin and Ethan exchanged glances, trying to keep from smirking. Of course Riley would say that. In a lot of ways, Cas should probably be rooting for Riley. He would treat Gail like she was made of glass, and suck up to Cas the whole time he was doing it.

"Thanks, Riley," Gail said with a grin. Admittedly, part of her was thinking the same thing. "Now, Cas doesn't like it when I say this, but if we have to do this thing, I say we have a little fun with it. So, we're going to have our Divorce Party at the bunker, New Year's Eve. Cas and I will do our anointing thingie beforehand, and then we'll have the civil ceremony there at Sam and Dean's place, after the guys pick their stones. Then, we'll have a bunch of drinks, and ring in the New Year."

"I wish you wouldn't say 'divorce'," Cas said, frowning. "You know that I would never divorce you."

"I'm just trying to have a sense of humour about it, sweetie," Gail said, kissing him on the cheek. "In fact, if anyone's got some divorce humour, I would invite you to bring your jokes. I refuse to be sad about this. It's just a blip on the radar screen. That's all."

Their friends and family traded uncomfortable glances. The room fell silent as everyone thought about what was going to happen. Come New Year's Day, Cas and Gail were no longer going to be married. It was funny; there were certain things you got used to in life, things you expected never to change. The sky was blue, the grass was green, and Cas and Gail were...Cas and Gail. But now, not only would they not even be married to each other once the calendar page turned, but Gail would be married to someone else.

"I have one." Everybody had expected it to be Frank, but it was Jody who suddenly spoke up. The entire group turned their heads to look at her. "There are two sides to every divorce: yours, and Shithead's."

There was another silence, and then, Gail burst out laughing. Then Gabriel joined her, then Frank, Nicole, and Liz. Soon, everyone was laughing. Cas wasn't, of course, but his expression had relaxed a little. When Gail had told him how she wanted to approach the subject, his first reaction had been one of disapproval. He didn't find anything the slightest bit amusing about having to spend the first six months of the New Year apart from the love of his life. But she'd made him realize that the news they had to impart was going to be difficult enough for everyone to hear without requiring them all to wear black and go into mourning about it. And they weren't done with the bad news yet, were they?

"We have something else to tell you, too," Cas told the group somberly.

"Yes, and maybe we'd better make sure everyone's glasses are nice and full for this one," Gail said, making a face.

"What could be worse than what you just told us?" Frank asked her.

"As the expression goes: 'hold my beer'," Gail said dryly.

If they'd thought the room was silent before, when Cas and Gail had finished telling everyone about the true relationship between Vincent, Rowena, Crowley, and Gail, you could hear a pin drop when they were done.

"Boy, it really IS a Silent Night," Gail quipped nervously.

"You're kidding me," Frank finally said, once he could find his voice. "You have got to be freaking kidding me."

Gail laughed humourlessly. "I wish I were. I only wish I were."

"Wait a minute," Frank said, holding up his hands. He seemed to be the only one in the room even capable of speech at the moment. "Wait, just a damn minute." He looked at Cas. "If you and Crowley were brothers at the time of Creation, and Priscilla and Fergus were brother and sister at the time of the Mayflower, doesn't that make you and Gail...?"

"Nothing. It makes us nothing," Gail said quickly. "It makes us two people who are very much in love, that's what it makes us. And that's ALL it makes us. Got it?" She pointed her finger at him, and then at the others. "All of you, same thing."

"Yeah, you'd better shut up, Frank," Dean piped up. "You don't want Luke and Leia here to throw you out of their house at Christmastime, do you?"

Gail wheeled on him. "Really, Dean? Do you really want to be saying that to me right now? You think you're being funny, do you? Do you think that joke makes you funny?"

"Who are you, Joe Pesci? Actually, yeah. That's exactly what I think," Dean said, smirking.

"Well, it's going to make you dead in about 10 seconds, too, if you don't wipe that freaking smirk off your face," she threatened him.

"Oh, nice talk from an Angel at Christmas," Dean teased her. "Do you kiss God with that mouth?" Then he and Frank looked at each other and started to pretend like they were strumming banjos. "Doo doo DOO doo doo doo doo doo doo..."

"OK, that's it, I'm getting my blade," Gail announced, pretending to get up from the couch. But she supposed it was really her fault. She was the one who had asked everyone for humour, wasn't she? This was what her family was like.

"All right, that's enough," Cas said sternly. "We took no pleasure in telling you about it, and now that you have had your fun, let's change the subject. I would like to enjoy our Christmas, and Gail would, too."

Mercifully, the men shut it down then, and after a few minutes, they had gone on to other topics.

Chuck was telling them about some ideas that he and Richard has been kicking around for the third movie in the series. "Now that we've introduced Gail's character, I've been pitching some more back story for you," Chuck said, looking at her. "Even though it's kind of out of sequence to what really happened, I wanted to see if we could bring Frank in, as a sort of plot twist. Maybe he's been in Hell this whole time, and you have to make a deal to get him out, or something," Chuck went on. "Remember, it's only fiction."

Gail glanced over at her brother, who was talking to Barry and Tommy. "Or maybe we'll just leave him there, this time," she said sarcastically, still stewing about his and Dean's jokes from a few minutes ago.

Chuck laughed. He looked around surreptitiously. Laurel was talking with Nicole and Dean. "You know I was willing to help you, right?" he said, keeping his voice down.

She gave him a little smile. "I know. You're a good friend, Chuck. But, Laurel is right. You guys just got engaged. I don't blame her for the way she feels."

"You know, I'm thinking about some flashback scenes with you and Cas, too," Chuck told her. "If you don't object, I'd kind of like to explore that whole historical aspect. Maybe a whole Tristan and Isolde kind of thing. What do you think?"

"I think that's wrong," Sam remarked.

Chuck looked at him, puzzled. "Yeah? Why?"

"Because Cas and I didn't have to drink a potion to fall in love," Gail said. She was staring warmly at her soon-to-be ex-husband, who was talking to the young male Angels she had designated. Probably making sure they understood the definition of a "Green Card" marriage, she thought with faint amusement. "Although, I did give him a very special glass of water to drink that first night," she reminisced softly.

"And, neither of us would ever VOLUNTARILY marry anyone else," Cas said, placing emphasis on the word. He slipped his arms around Gail's waist, from behind her. For a moment, she was startled. She'd just seen him across the room, talking to Riley, Efram and Kevin. But he was God, after all, and he'd always had excellent hearing, to go along with all of his other celestial powers. Plus, they had vowed to spend every minute they possibly could together from now until they were forced apart.

"Did I hear that you were talking about Tristan and Isolde?" Cas said, giving Gail and a gentle squeeze. "That's a very romantic story."

"Romantic?!" Gail exclaimed. "More like tragic!" She pointed a finger at Chuck. "You'd better not write us like THAT in your movies."

"Why? What's the deal about them?" Rob asked, curious.

"Check this out: They're separated from each other, and married to other people," Gail told him. "Tristan gets sick, and he's laying there on his deathbed, hoping against hope that Isolde will come and see him before he dies. There's a ship coming, and if she was on the ship, they were going to put out white sails to let him know, so that he could try to hang on a little longer, in time enough for her to get there. So, the ship did that, because she WAS on it. But his witch of a substitute wife, who was also named Isolde - 'cause it's such a common name - looked out the window for him, saw the ship, and she lied to him! She said it had black sails, which meant that his Isolde wasn't coming."

"His substitute wife? What does that mean?" Rob said.

"When Isolde - the original one - married another, Tristan did, too," Cas replied.

"What's romantic about that?" the young man asked, puzzled.

"Exactly!" Gail said, gesturing with her hands for emphasis. "Thank you!"

"I think it's very romantic," Cas insisted. "He loved his Isolde so much that, when she was forced to marry another man, he married another woman, just because her name was Isolde, too. He couldn't even bear to contemplate marrying a woman with a different name."

There was silence for a moment, and then Gail said, "So, if Cas meets anyone else named Gail in the next six months, all of you guys have my full permission to do whatever it is you need to do."

The group that was gathered around them laughed, and Rob said, "So what happened after she lied to him?"

"He died," Gail said bluntly. "He thought she wasn't coming, so he gave up, and he died. And then, when she did arrive, she died of grief when she saw that he was dead. Then, they were buried together. Really romantic, isn't it?" Gail added sarcastically. Considering the fairly recent events in her and Cas's lives, that hit a little too close to home for her.

Cas gave her another squeeze. "However, from Isolde's grave a rose tree grew, and from Tristan's grave came a vine, that wrapped itself around that tree," he said softly. "And every time that vine was cut, it would grow again. A sign that the two lovers could never be parted, even in death. So you see, we are not that different from them after all, are we, my darling?"

"That's just about the sweetest thing I've ever heard," Laurel remarked.

Gail turned around to face Cas. "You know, sometimes I almost forget how wonderful you really are," she said, tears prickling at her eyes. "I love you so much, Cas."

"I love you too, my love," he said, kissing her. "This will be the longest six months of my existence, but I will endure it," he told her. "I will endure it, because I am that vine. I will never stop wrapping myself around you."

The two of them started to kiss, and the people they had been talking to backed away discreetly. This time, not even Frank and Dean gave them grief about it. They had only one week remaining, to be together. And that wasn't very much time. Not much time at all.

Christmas was over now, and everyone had gone to their respective homes happy, with full stomachs, and laden down with presents. Gail had gone all out as far as the gifts went, but there had also been a few gag presents sprinkled in. She'd finally availed herself of the opportunity to bestow a couple of Cas's campaign posters on the guys. There had been much hooting and hollering when those presents were opened, with increasingly inappropriate jokes on how they could enhance Cas's image on the posters, and various things he could be holding in them. But there had been a lot of really nice moments at Christmas too, such as when Cas had stood at the head of the dinner table and said the blessing. They'd had many more attendees at this particular Christmas celebration. Their extended family was growing, and even though Sam and Quinn had broken up and Eric wasn't there, it was still a wonderful occasion.

As the days remaining to the year counted down, Cas and Gail holed up in their Earth house like hermits. Cas had once again left Bobby and Gabriel in charge of Heaven, leaving instructions to be contacted only in case of dire emergency. He and Gail had cleaned up the house together after Christmas, taking all of the remaining food to their neighbourhood homeless shelter, and doing whatever they discreetly could for the unfortunate people there. Then they had returned home to spend their last days together as a married couple.

Predictably enough, they'd spent much of their time in bed, but they had also talked quite a bit, about a variety of subjects.

Gail had finally admitted that Frank and Dean's joking around about all of their complicated relationships had gotten to her, maybe more than she'd been willing to let on at the time. Cas had been caressing her with the intention of taking her clothes off, but she stopped him. He asked her what the matter was, and she uneasily broached the subject.

But, Cas ridiculed what the men had been implying. "No. No! I reject the notion," he'd told her firmly. "Don't even concern yourself with it. You and I are by no stretch of the imagination brother and sister. The very idea is insanity. They are two entirely separate things. You and I were married in a cathedral in The Vatican, and we were also Mr. and Mrs. Alden, in the New World. God would not keep bringing us together like this time after time throughout history, to fall in love with each other every time, if there were anything amiss about our relationship. Don't you worry about that. Please. Frank and Dean are just being...Frank and Dean. You know how they are. But, they are being silly. You are my mate, and I am yours. That is all there is to that. I know you're probably just feeling strange about the coming six months. So am I. If there was anything I could do to keep you as my wife, I would. But as soon as we perform the dissolution ritual, that will be it. I won't be allowed to be romantic with you again, unless we are going to remarry." Cas took a deep breath. "And that is why, as soon as you are married, it is my intention to stay away from you until you are free."

Gail looked at him, startled. "What? What do you mean?"

He looked at her with the puppydog eyes. "Just that," he told her. "It will be too difficult for me to see you married to another man, knowing I won't be able to kiss you, or even hold your hand."

She was getting frustrated now. "Look, Cas. I still don't understand why I even have to marry somebody else in the first place. If your ancient rules said we have to annul our marriage and then have, say, a six-month cooling-off period, fine. I guess I could get that. It would be to prevent either person from doing something rash. I guess. But, why on earth should I have to be married off to some other guy during that time?"

Cas was subdued, lost in thought over what she was saying. "I don't know. I suppose it was because the lawmakers were trying, in their own way, to allow the woman the freedom of choice. In those days, it was unacceptable for a woman to sleep with anyone other than a husband."

"Well, I don't want to sleep with anyone other than MY husband, and that's you," she said, poking him gently. "The only reason I agreed to go along with this stupid idea is because you said there won't be any expectations of anything physical with this other guy."

"That's right," Cas assured her. "But, you must also remain faithful to each other for the six months. That's why I can't be around, kissing you, or holding your hand. By our law, that would be considered cheating."

Gail looked at him. "Wait a minute. So you're telling me that, even though me and my so-called husband won't be doing anything with each other, that we can't be doing anything with anyone else, either? Either of us?"

Cas nodded. "Of course. You both must remain faithful."

"Do the guys know that?" she quizzed him.

"Sure," Cas said, but there was a tone of uncertainty in his voice now. "They must. Marriages are entered into with the expectation of fidelity."

"Yes, but Cas...this situation is a little different, wouldn't you say?" she said. "What about Gabriel, or Dean? They're in established relationships. If I have to marry either of those guys, is it really fair to Liz or Nicole? To expect them not to be intimate with their guys just because of us and our stupid situation?"

Cas thought about that. No, he guessed it really wasn't fair. He sighed. The next six months had the potential to be hard on a lot of people.

Gail was frowning. She really didn't want to do this. And if she had to do this, she didn't want to do it without Cas around. But she could understand where he was coming from. How could the two of them be in a room together and not kiss, or even hold hands? How did a person live without breathing, anyway? Logistically, how was this even going to work? If she ended up marrying one of the Angels, and the odds suggested that would probably be the case, how were she and Cas supposed to stay away from each other if they were both in Heaven, going about their business? Heaven was a big place, but still...Or, should she and the mystery guy get a temporary place here on Earth, maybe? Because there was no way she was going to live here in this house with anyone else. No way. What would it be like, being married to one of the young Angels? Would she be like their mom, or something? Or how about the reverse? Being married to Bobby would be like living with your father, Gail thought. Well, the normal, non-child-killing kind of father, that was. Or how about Gabriel? Hey, at least they would have a few laughs together. And if he tried anything, she'd just sic Liz on him. Finally, what about Sam, or Dean? It would be super weird being married to Sam, especially considering the world's biggest, most obvious elephant. Supposedly, they'd dealt with the subject of his feelings for her and put it behind them now, but had they, really? What if she was suddenly Sam's wife, though? Or, even weirder, Dean's?

No. That was it. Enough was enough. She was starting to go nuts, and she and Cas had only a handful of days left.

Gail touched Cas's face, caressing his cheek softly. "Never mind," she said. "The only person I want to concentrate on right now is you."

He took the hand that was on his cheek in both of his, kissing it. "I need to kiss every inch of you," he told her. "I need to put the experience in my memory bank, to get me through the next six months. Will you let me do that?"

"'Let' you?" she repeated, shaking her head slowly. She smiled. "You talk about that like I'm granting you a favour, or something."

"You are," Cas said, putting his arms around her. "Every time I'm fortunate enough to be able to express my love for you like that, I feel like you are granting me the biggest favour I could ever receive. Every time you give yourself over to me, I realize I'm the luckiest individual in existence. And every time you love me back, I'm made aware of what the word Heaven truly means."

"You have such a way with words," Gail told him, nuzzling his cheek. "Do you think you can talk and kiss at the same time?"

"Of course I can," Cas said softly. His hands were slipping underneath her clothes now, stroking her bare skin. "I can do anything you need me to do, as long as you tell me you love me."

"I love you, Cas," she said, as he removed her clothes and began to kiss her body.

"Call me your husband, please," he requested, licking the insides of her thighs." "I need to hear that now."

In another minute, Gail was crying out Cas's name, calling him her husband, the only one she would ever love, and he was smiling, because that was exactly what he needed. Then, when her mouth and tongue were on him, he shouted out, promising the same.

And then three days later, after making love one final time, they anointed each other with the Holy Oil, and then, their marriage was over.


	2. Just Good Friends

Chapter 2 - Just Good Friends

This was the weirdest New Year's Eve party Frank had ever been to.

In some ways it seemed normal, at least on the surface. There were snacks being consumed, and many drinks, and people were hanging around in groups, socializing. All standard party stuff. But if you looked closer, you could tell that something more was going on.

For one thing, Cas and Gail were at opposite ends of the room. Every now and then, they would cast longing glances at each other, but then they would look away almost immediately, as if even the act of looking at each other was wrong.

The three young Angels, Efram, Kevin and Riley, were standing huddled in one corner of the room, talking quietly, like wallflowers at a dance. Paul and Linda and Henri were having a bit of an animated discussion, and then, when Linda asked Bobby to weigh in, things looked like they were really starting to heat up. Liz and Carolyn and Barry were bonding over talking about babies, and Gabriel was holding court, regaling Rob and Tommy with tales of some historical events, the veracity of which were suspect but no less entertaining. Gail was talking to Chuck and Laurel, Sam was brooding alone near the bookshelves, and Cas was in a separate corner, attempting to explain the ancient law to Nicole and Dean. Gail had pointed out to Cas that it wasn't fair to Gabriel and Dean's girlfriends to let them go into this without all the facts. So, when Cas and Gail had arrived at this party freshly divorced, so to speak, Cas had already agreed to seek out both couples and make the terms clear to them. He'd had no trouble with Gabriel and Liz. After all, Gabriel was a being who was at least as old as the laws they were discussing. He'd already known that those were the terms, and he'd already filled Liz in on them. Unsurprisingly, she had still been fine with it. To Liz, the number one priority was getting Gail and Cas back together, and if that meant sacrificing her boyfriend's affections for six months, she had no problem with that. They were Angels, weren't they? Six months was a drop in the bucket, the proverbial grain of sand on the beach for them.

Nicole and Dean were proving to be a little more complicated. They hadn't really understood the possible implications of what they'd agreed to, when they'd agreed to it. If Gail and Dean were the ones who ended up married and Gail moved into the bunker for half a year, would that really be so different from all the other times she had lived here? True, most of those times, she had been with Cas, but not always. So, so what? Dean had joked that just meant that his chances of getting a hot breakfast every morning would be doubled, and he would have to make sure to put on some pants when he came into the kitchen to eat it. No biggie, really. And now that the movie was wrapped and in post-production, Nicole wouldn't be as far away any more. Sure, she was still in Canada, but Dean had been considering asking her if she might want to play house for a while, while they tried to sort out where they went from here.

But Cas had thrown cold water on that idea when he'd told them that Dean and Nicole would be forbidden from being intimate with each other if Dean became Gail's husband.

"What do you mean?" Nicole had asked Cas, puzzled.

"Just what I said," Cas stated calmly. "If Dean and Gail are wed, they would be required to be faithful to each other, for the duration of their marriage."

"Yeah, but...me and Gail wouldn't be...you know..." Dean said uncomfortably. Of all the weird-ass, icky subjects to be talking to Cas about, this had to be the worst.

"I know that, Dean," Cas said patiently, "but nevertheless, you two will have to remain faithful to each other within the framework of your union. Therefore, neither of you can be with anyone else. That is why you see Gail and I at opposite ends of the room now. She will soon be married to another man, and I will be unable to even hold her hand."

Dean laughed, but then, a moment later, he realized that Cas was being completely serious. That was his friend's idea of having to abstain. "Well, you can take your ancient laws, and you can shove them right up your feathered, Godly - " he started to say angrily, but Nicole put her hand on her boyfriend's arm.

"Cas, what would happen if Dean bowed out now?" Nicole asked their friend quietly.

"Nothing. Nothing would happen," Cas said sadly. "She and I would have to remain apart, but we would be unable to begin the last step of the annulment process in the meantime." Unless Gail were to pick someone else as a substitute on the spot, Cas thought. Maybe Henri would agree to serve. Or, Paul. Out of the two of them, Cas would much rather have Henri. Even though Paul was back to being a full-fledged Angel now, and had seemed to have reformed himself, that didn't mean that Cas would be entirely comfortable with him being married to Gail. Ethan, Barry and Tommy were married men, or any one of them would be ideal. Chuck had already withdrawn, Rob was a blood relative, and Gail and Frank, while not actually blood, had grown up as brother and sister, so that would just be too strange. So unless Gail were to go out and pick a perfect stranger, they had no other candidates right now. If Cas were honest with himself, he would also prefer that Sam not be a candidate, either. The younger Winchester could protest to the contrary all he wanted, but Cas knew that it was impossible that Sam was no longer in love with Gail. Maybe he was trying to tell himself that, but Cas didn't buy it. This marriage was supposed to be a stopgap only, a means to an end. That was all. And the ending to the movie was supposed to be Castiel, showing up in the last reel on a white horse with flowers, getting down on one knee and making the most romantic proposal ever. He'd already started working on the first draft of the eloquent, tear-inducing proposal he was going to make to her. The last thing Cas needed when it came to Gail was a husband for her who was actually in love with her.

Dean realized he was royally screwed now. If he agreed to remain one of the seven now that he fully understood what the terms were, he was agreeing to do without for six months and expecting Nicole to do the same, unless she decided to go out and get another guy. Would she? She worked with a lot of handsome actor types, guys who were rich and famous, and had a lot more to offer her than Dean did. True, he and Sam were no longer poor, thanks to Cas having artificially enhanced their bank account. But Nicole was a low-maintenance woman, one of the many things that Dean liked about her. Due to the enforced long-distance nature of their relationship, they really only talked for short periods of time, and then had sex. When was the last time he had taken her out on a real date, if ever? Aw, geez. Now Dean was starting to think like Cas. But maybe that wasn't such a bad thing, in a way. Cas had one successful marriage under his belt, and what did Dean have? A string of one-night stands, and a girlfriend he wasn't even sure enough of to ask to wait six months for him.

Nicole was thinking along those same lines. She and Dean had known each other for several years now, yet in very many ways, they hardly knew each other at all. She could see the indecision in his eyes, and she couldn't blame him. They'd never really talked about whether they wanted to be exclusive to each other or not. There hadn't really been time, she told herself. That wasn't a topic for Skype, and they so seldom got together in person that once their clothes were back on, there was usually only time for a goodbye kiss before one or both of them had to get going. Maybe six months of abstinence would actually be good for them. Maybe it would force them to have a real conversation, for a change. That was, if it even became an issue. After all, the odds were only one in seven.

"If you want to stay in, I won't object," Nicole said to Dean. "I guess it would be unfair of us to leave them hanging like that, when we already agreed to it in the first place."

Dean wasn't sure how he felt about her giving in this easily, but he was glad to see the relieved look on Cas's face when he said, "OK, Buddy. I'm in."

Gabriel was watching their discussion out of the corner of his eye. He kind of wished that Liz had raised a bit more of a ruckus when Cas had been talking to the two of them. That's what he got for falling for a Saint, he supposed. He stole a glance at Gail now. What would it be like, being married to her? For a moment, just one moment, he allowed himself the indulgence of imagining that there was no Liz and no Cas, and that Gabriel and Gail were married for real. Gabe could definitely see the appeal. Gail was highly intelligent, she was funny as hell, and she gave as good as she got. It was also obvious that she had a lot of love to give. She must have, to have broken through the layers upon layers of ice that had enclosed Castiel for all of those centuries. Not only had Gail melted through all of that ice, she had taken that stick that had been up Castiel's butt, and begun to conduct an orchestra with it. Gabriel had never seen Cas happier or more free than when he was with Gail. His Brother had been distant and cold all those years in Heaven; the pious, dutiful soldier. Gabriel had tried everything he could think of to penetrate Castiel's stony facade. He had poked, prodded, cajoled, joked, and taunted. He had spoken harshly to Castiel, accusing him of being one of those dried-up old Upper Echelon fossils, and Castiel had just ignored him. Gabriel had told Cas his best jokes, and his Brother hadn't even cracked a smile. Then Gabriel had gotten angry and lashed out, saying he was ashamed to have to call Castiel his Brother, and he'd finally gotten a reaction. For a split second, the hurt had been evident on Castiel's face, and Gabriel could see that he had feelings, after all. But, when he'd called Castiel on it, the veil had come down again, and Cas had ordered Gabriel out of his office.

This had gone on and on intermittently for centuries. At times, Gabriel had walked away and stayed away, telling himself angrily that he was wasting his valuable time. But he could never stay away for long, because he'd recognized in Castiel a kindred spirit, even though his Brother was in serious denial about it.

Then came the first miracle, when Castiel had been chosen to lead the raid into Hell, and had grabbed Dean Winchester on his way out. Who knew that one mere human man could be such a game-changer? Admittedly, Gabriel had struggled with his own feelings about that whole deal at the time. As an Archangel, Gabe was hard-wired to regard human beings as no more than pets, really. And as he'd watched Castiel gradually turn his back on Heaven in favour of the Winchesters, Gabriel had honestly felt a little put out. Sort of like a woman who had been married to a Neanderthal for years and years and then divorced him must feel seeing him with a new, young wife, acting all sophisticated and urbane. She lays the groundwork for all that time, and then suddenly, the guy is everything she'd worked so hard to make him into, but some other woman is reaping the benefits. While that was perhaps a bit of a laboured metaphor, Gabe could definitely relate. So he'd lashed out at the Winchesters then, establishing the love-hate relationship they'd carried on for years. Jealous, because they were getting the Castiel that Gabriel had always wanted, the guy he could pal around with and thumb their noses at Heaven with. Together.

But when Gail had finally come along, she had slowly reached out to all of them with those cute little T-Rex arms of hers and yanked mightily, pulling them all together in spite of themselves. United we stand, and all that crap. Now, Gabriel no longer felt like an outsider in Heaven, among his own kind. And he also felt like he belonged here on Earth, among their human family, because Gail had made sure that he felt welcome and included, in both places.

What if it had been Gabriel that Gail had fallen in love with in the first place, and he with her? Their love story would be epic. Maybe not as epic as Castiel and Gail's was turning out to be, but awesome in its own way. And the sex would be amazing. Gabriel would pick fights with her on purpose, just so she would stand up to him, and he could see that fire in her eyes. She thought her eyes were a boring colour because they were brown, but Gail had clearly never seen her own eyes when she was angry, or amused, or impassioned about something. Gabriel had seen them under all of those circumstances and more, and she had no idea. That time he'd been getting changed with her in their bedroom, when Gabriel's essence had been in Cas's body, and she had busted him? The look in her eyes had momentarily made Gabriel feel so hot that had he been a different, less honourable sort of a guy, he would have been tempted to go in for the kiss anyway and risk the inevitable sock in the face that he would have received. Gabriel looked at Cas now. The lucky son of a bitch. Gabriel could just bet that Cas picked fights with Gail sometimes, just for that very reason. She would get that look in her eyes, but then, as soon as Cas kissed her, she would let him, and then as soon as their clothes were off, Cas would know exactly where on her body to go, and what to do once he got there. Then she would be grabbing him by the hair, telling him he'd better not stop, and he would smile. Now, why on earth would he ever want to stop?

Gabriel was smiling now, thinking about that, but he shook himself out of his daydream. Man, HE had better be the one to stop. He could wind up married to Gail within the next hour, and he'd better not be having those kinds of thoughts about her if that happened. Gabriel was no Saint, like Liz apparently was, but he had his principles. Didn't he?

Sam was deep within himself now, giving himself the biggest lecture of his life. Hadn't he sat here in this very room just one month ago, promising them both that it was enough? He could be married to Gail in less than an hour, and the prospect both thrilled and terrified him. He was scared of himself, because he was the biggest liar in the world. And, he was scared of her. Her brains, her humour, her doe eyes, and her innocent expressions of affection. What if Sam turned out to be Gail's husband? Maybe he and Dean should just pack up and go on an extended Hunting trip then, until the six months were over, and Sam could breathe again. She could just move into the bunker and make herself at home. She was always welcome here, anyway. She could stay in Sam's room and watch all the romantic comedies she wanted. Yeah, right. He was just trying to give himself permission to picture Gail in his bed, if only for a moment. But there was no way that Sam was going there, no way in Hell. That was a slippery slope, and besides, nothing like that was ever going to happen, and they all knew it. The most romantic thing that Sam was ever going to be able to say about Gail once the six months was up was that he was her ex-husband. The only thing that Gail would have to worry about was the bunker door hitting her in the ass on her way out at the end of the six months, in her haste to find Cas and remarry him. But honestly, what did Sam expect? The more things changed, the more they stayed the same. And it wasn't anybody's fault. It was just the way it was.

Meanwhile, Bobby was deeply regretting having allowed Linda to draw him into the conversation she'd been having with Paul and Henri, because the subject matter was making him feel very uncomfortable. It had started out innocently enough, with Linda making a lighthearted comment about none of Gail's prospective husbands looking particularly thrilled about the impending nuptials.

"I don't blame them, really, or Gail, either," Henri had remarked. "You know, the more of the ancient laws I study, the more I wonder about what kind of Draconian society there used to be in Heaven. I can see that Gail has been trying her best to update things, but I guess it's a process. Besides, I'm sure she never thought that she herself was going to be subject to this particular law. But it's a real shame, not only that she and Cas have to be put through this, but those other people, as well. Especially the couples. Neither Liz nor Nicole look very happy at the moment."

"Can you blame them?" Linda retorted. "I wonder why she couldn't have picked single men, only. She could have picked you, for instance."

"Moi?" Henri had said, surprised. "Oh no, I would never have expected her to pick me."

"Why not?" Linda asked, puzzled.

"You know why she didn't pick him," Paul interjected, "or me, either."

"And why is that?" Linda said coolly. But she was afraid that she already knew the answer.

"Isn't it obvious?" Paul said archly.

"If you say it's because you're black, I'm going to take this drink I'm holding, and throw it right in your face," Linda told him.

"Well then, I'd better put on my rain gear, because that's exactly what I'm saying," Paul quipped.

Linda looked at him balefully. Oh, no. He wasn't going to charm his way out of this one. "So, what are you saying? That she's a racist?" Linda retorted. "She picked Kevin, and last I checked, he wasn't white." The moment she'd said that, Linda started to think about it. She could be Gail's mother-in-law in less than an hour. Funny that Gail had called it a Green Card marriage. Man, the jokes that could be made about that...One of the reasons that Linda and Paul got along so well together was that they could usually manage to rise above discussions of race. The fact that they were both people of colour enabled them to understand each other's points of view better. Linda knew that Paul was sometimes a little too sensitive when it came to racism, but he was trying to work on it, and Henri and Linda had been trying to help him with that. Not to say that Paul's attitude was completely unwarranted, of course. They had all experienced racism first-hand, and it wasn't pretty. Still, Linda preferred to give people the benefit of the doubt, until it became impossible to do so. "She probably didn't ask Henri because she doesn't know him very well," Linda continued. "Or you, for that matter. She's known Bobby and Chuck and most of those guys for a lot longer."

"You make a very good point, Madame," Henri said, smiling at Linda. He looked at Paul reproachfully. "We've talked about this, Son. Not everything is racial. I don't believe that Gail's a racist, and I don't believe that you do, either."

Paul was frowning. "Maybe not intentionally, but...she could be an accidental racist."

Linda was puzzled. "What? What's that?"

"An accidental racist," Paul repeated. "We've all known them. The people who look at us differently, and don't even realize they're doing it. It's like the woman who clutches her purse tighter when you walk by her on the street. Or the parents who say they're fine with black guys, until their daughter brings one home."

Henri and Linda exchanged glances, frowning. Well, he wasn't wrong on that score, that was for sure. They all knew people like that; well-meaning, but still oblivious. Linda was conflicted now, though. If she acknowledged Paul's point, wasn't she just giving credence to his further-reaching hypothesis that under every Caucasian beat the heart of a racist, accidental or otherwise?

"Bobby, come here for a second," Linda said, grabbing her friend by the sleeve of his shirt. "I want you to weigh in on this. Paul, explain your theory to Bobby."

So Paul did, and Bobby's heart sank. He would never have even thought of it that way. It was Gail's prerogative to choose whoever she wanted. It had never occurred to Bobby to think of what race the guys she'd picked were. He told the group this now, and Paul shook his head slowly. "That's just because you're on the white side of the equasion," Paul told the older Angel.

Bobby pursed his lips tightly. Thanks a lot, Linda. "Ya know, no matter what I say here, I'm in a no-win situation," Bobby told them. "If I defend Gail's decisions, I'm a racist. Right, Paul?"

Paul frowned. "I didn't say that, exactly. You could be an accidental racist, too."

"Huh?" Bobby said, puzzled. Paul explained the term to him, and he nodded. "Well then, yeah, I'm a racist," Bobby admitted. "But then, guess what? By that definition, we all are. Yeah, my father had all kinds of pejorative terms ready when a family of black people moved onto our street when I was growing up, and yes, that was all kinds of wrong. But, let me ask you something, Linda? Did you ever bring a white guy home to meet your parents? And what did your parents say when he left? How about you, Henri? Same thing, right? And Paul, I hate to tell ya this, but your father felt like the entire human race was inferior to him. And if that ain't the very definition of racist, then I don't know what is. If Cas was part of this discussion, he might say something Biblical, like that people in glass houses shouldn't throw stones, or some horse crap like that. But I believe I'll just leave this here for you to chew on: What did you think of ME when you first met me? Let me answer that for you: You thought 'Here's a Southern cracker, if I ever did see one. Hangs the Confederate flag on his walls, and whistles Dixie every morning when he gets up. Yearns for the days when black people knew their place, which was working in the fields and then serving his ancestors their dinner'. Am I right?" Bobby said, staring intently at Paul. "So, unless you can honestly tell me I'm wrong, you're a racist too, young man. Now, at the risk of making the situation worse, I'd like to say: lighten up. It's a party. Tonight'll be weird enough without this kind of stuff being talked about. I could wind up being married to a girl I look on as a daughter in less than an hour, and I'll thank you to keep the obvious jokes to a minimum. Come on, Paul. I'll buy you a drink."

Kevin had been casting the occasional glance over to where his mother had been standing. He supposed he should really go over there and try to make more of an effort with Paul. But their discussion had looked pretty intense, and Kevin was a little bit too nervous right now.

What if Kevin picked the white stone? He would be Gail's husband, then. Cas said that the couple would have to live together, so Kevin supposed that he could invite her to move into his apartment in Heaven, unless she had a better idea. The place was kind of small, but it wasn't like they had to worry about bedrooms, or anything. It might be kind of nice, though, having a friend around. Gail had sort of been like an older sister to Kevin for a number of years now. She had shown him a great deal of compassion when he'd lost his Mom, and when Becky had broken up with him. It would be nice having a sympathetic ear at home, someone he could confide in. Kevin hadn't said anything publicly yet about his suspicions that he might be gay; he'd only told his Mom. But Paul had been there, too, as usual. Linda was awfully busy hanging around with Paul these days, wasn't she? It was funny, in a way. When Linda had come back from the Netherworld and told Kevin that she was going to treat him differently in the future, that she was going to let him live his own life, he'd never actually thought that she'd really meant it. Or that she would quickly establish a life of her own, that was separate from his. Kids were supposed to outgrow their parents, not the other way around. Maybe, in her zeal to prove that she'd meant what she had said about not being a helicopter mom, Linda had gone a little too far. If Kevin ended up marrying Gail, he could talk to her about it, and get her advice.

Efram was even more nervous than Kevin, probably because he and Gail hardly knew each other; not well, anyway. Plus, she was Cas's wife. It didn't matter that they said their marriage was dissolved. That was the only way that Efram could ever think of her. He himself was a very young Angel, and Efram was aware that most people thought he was very naive. In many ways, he supposed he really was. He had been taken far too early from life to have had a lot of experience with relationships. He had no idea how to be anybody's husband. But at least any thoughts of anything physical were off the table. And Efram was just fine with that. He didn't need the extra pressure, and Cas was the scariest dude he had ever met.

Riley was looking at the whole thing very differently. He really wanted to be the one to pick that white stone. He wanted to step up and be the hero that Cas and Gail needed. Gail was nice, and she was funny, too. And most important of all, she was the most important person in Cas's life. If Riley were to become Gail's husband, he would treat her with respect and care. He would lay down his life for her if necessary, and give her anything she wanted. Just like Cas would. Cas would be so proud of Riley, so happy to see how he was treating Gail. Riley smiled, fantasizing about how happy his mentor would be if Riley chose the stone.

Cas's eyes had been darting around the room, looking at the seven men who were prospective husbands for Gail. Their thoughts were very strong, and those thoughts were bouncing around the room, becoming louder as the clock ticked down. Cas couldn't help but receive such strong thoughts, but were he to be completely honest with himself, he wasn't exactly trying to shut them out, either. Gail would be married to one of those men soon, and even though they were friends, Cas wanted to make sure that all of their intentions were pure.

The young Angels didn't concern him. Cas was aware that Riley revered Cas as his mentor so much that he would treat Gail like a priceless Ming vase. Cas tried not to smile as he envisioned Riley running around, trying to protect Gail from everyone, and everything. Cas wished the young Angel good luck with that. It had never worked for HIM. Maybe Cas should consult with Dean and start a pool on exactly how long it would take before Gail put a halt to that situation.

Efram was scared green of Cas, and of Gail too, come to that. Cas could picture young Efram as a mouse, scurrying around his and Gail's abode, avoiding her as much as possible until the six months were finally, mercifully over. But he hadn't said no to being a candidate, because young Efram wanted to do his duty. Although perhaps they shouldn't use that phraseology in their wedding vows. Gail probably wouldn't take too kindly to being referred to as a "duty".

Cas knew that Kevin was struggling with a few things right now. His mother's relationship with Paul was bothering the young Angel, even though he was trying valiantly not to let it. And, much to Cas's surprise, Kevin was questioning his sexuality, too. Castiel had been around for aeons, yet it had never occurred to him that that could be an area of uncertainty. Either you were gay, or you weren't, wasn't that so? It confused Cas to think that there could be any confusion about the issue. But apparently, Kevin was preoccupied with that subject. He was also a bit nervous about the prospect of marrying Gail, but Kevin was looking at the potential silver lining. It would be nice having someone around to open up to about these things. Kevin could probably benefit greatly from having a confidante, but Cas was a little puzzled by the fact that Kevin seemed to think he had to be married in order to obtain one.

Bobby didn't concern Cas, either. If Bobby and Gail wound up married, they would live together very much as a father and daughter would. Actually, that sort of arrangement could be of great benefit to Gail. She'd never had a father; not really. From what Cas was given to understand, Frank's father Jim had been frequently absent from the home. And even when he'd been there, Jim's primary interest had been in his biological son Frank, and in passing down the lore and skills of being a Hunter to his own progeny. Vincent had been a sperm donor at best, and anyway, he could hardly be counted when it came to showing Gail any sort of paternal love. And there was God the Father, of course, but Castiel was only too aware of how empty loving Him could feel, sometimes. So, it might be very nice for Gail to have Bobby around, to serve in that capacity.

Cas looked at Dean now. He was on shakier ground here, but at least Cas had the comfort of knowing that Dean and Nicole were in an established, intimate relationship. Or at least, they were at the moment. Cas knew that expecting Dean Winchester to be celibate for six months was a tall order, but he supposed he had nothing to worry about, when it came to Dean and Gail living together. After all, Sam would almost always be around, and besides, Dean was Cas's best friend, and he and Gail were like brother and sister, were they not? Temptation was one thing, but Cas believed that Dean was too honourable to even think about trying anything with Gail. Unless a lot of alcohol and a major lessening of inhibitions were to occur, that was. But...no. Cas couldn't allow those kinds of thoughts to worm into his brain. That was ridiculous. Wasn't it?

But then he looked at Gabriel. Ever since his Archangel Brother had come back into his life, he had done nothing but demonstrate his love and loyalty. There were many sides to Gabriel, though, and no one knew that better than Cas. Liz had gotten a hold of Gabriel and was in the process of trying to remodel him, but she had rose-coloured glasses on. That kind of thing would only go so far. A person's nature could only be changed so much, and in reality, Gabriel was a far more complex individual. He could only be brought to heel for so long before he would rebel. In that way, Cas supposed that he and Gabriel were somewhat alike. Also, both of them had made questionable moral decisions from time to time. Gabriel fancied himself a playboy, a bon vivant who didn't like to follow the rules. How would the yoke of marriage settle upon his shoulders? Cas knew that Gabriel did genuinely care for Liz, and that fact gave Cas a bit of a comfort level. But, Gabriel had also been having some inappropriate thoughts about Gail, and that made Cas nervous. Gabriel was a bit more of a wild card when it came to a code of ethics. Cas also remembered that time in the bedroom of their house, when Gabriel had been inside his body. His Brother's thoughts toward Gail had been impure on that occasion, too. If she had not put her foot down and sent him out of the room as she had, who knew what else might have happened? Did Cas really want Gabriel to have half a year to decide how ethical he cared to be?

And then, there was Sam. Sweet, wonderful Sam. He'd had an unrequited infatuation for Gail ever since the first day that he and Dean had met her. Sam had recently confessed to being in love with Gail, a fact that had surprised exactly no one in their inner circle. However, he had also assured both her and Cas that he was working on that. But, who was he kidding? Cas knew that it was impossible to fall out of love with someone. Once you loved a person, you loved them for the rest of your existence. You didn't just stop. Especially if the object of your affection just happened to be Gail. She was the sun, the moon, and the entire solar system to Cas. She was his whole reason for existing. And that was perhaps the main reason that Cas couldn't get too angry with Sam for feeling that way. Who could blame any man for feeling that way about her?

Cas looked across the room at her now, and she looked back at him, as if she knew what he was thinking. She probably did, too. The two of them had always had that kind of connection.

Gail saw the way that Cas was looking at her, and the pain she'd been feeling in her stomach intensified. They weren't even officially apart yet, and already, she felt like someone had ripped her heart right out of her chest, and was playing hacky-sack with it. It was probably best if Cas stayed away, like he had planned. Or would that just make it even worse?

Cas moved steadily across the room to close the gap between them. "It's time," he said softly.

She looked up at him with the doe eyes, and the wave of both love and sadness Cas felt in that moment made him look away from her, so that he could compose himself. "If there was anything I could do, any way to take this cup from you..." he started to say, but Gail interrupted him.

"No," she said, her voice trembling. "We're not going to do this, Cas. I refuse to start the New Year crying. So I'm going to smile like nothing is wrong, talk like everything is perfect, act like this is all just a bad dream, and pretend like this isn't the worst pain I've ever felt."

Cas was aching to take her in his arms, but they'd agreed to abstain from any physical contact. Once she was married, anything of that nature would be forbidden, or the annulment would be invalid, and they would have gone through all of this for nothing. But he needed to comfort her somehow, so he looked at her and said, "When connections are real, they never die, my love. They can be buried, or ignored, or walked away from, but never broken. If you've deeply resonated with another person, the connection remains, despite any distance, time, situation, lack of presence, or circumstance."

Gail gave him a tremulous smile. "Cas, that's beautiful," she told him. "I feel exactly the same way."

"This will be very temporary," Cas assured her. "The time will fly by, you'll see." He smiled, trying to cover up his own pain. "And, just think: now, you finally have a reason to look forward to the summer."

She laughed, sniffling back the tears she was determined not to shed. "Thanks, sweetie," she said to him. "Thanks for that."

"And if you need me for anything, all you need do is call, and no matter where you are or what I'm doing, I will be there in an instant," Cas went on.

As Gail nodded, he turned around to face the party guests. "May I have everyone's attention, please?" Cas said. "Could the seven suitors come forward now?"

Bobby rolled his eyes. Suitors? He had to be kidding with that. Cas was making it sound like they were all lined up, vying to marry Gail. Actually, that was probably exactly how Cas was viewing it.

Once they were all standing there, Cas reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a medium-sized black bag with a drawstring on the top. He shook the bag gently from the bottom, and they could all hear the clacking sound of the stones. The room had fallen deathly silent now, as everyone looked on nervously.

Gail felt a hand slip into hers, and she looked up at Barry's face. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "I know I'm a poor substitute, but anytime you need a good hand-holding, you give me a call," he said to her, making her laugh softly. But then, he continued, "You know, sometimes when you think things are falling apart, they may actually be falling into place."

She gave him a baleful glare, removing her hand from his. "What does that even MEAN, Barry? You try being forced to divorce Tommy for six months, and then tell me if what you just said makes any sense to you."

Barry frowned, but he said nothing. She was right. He couldn't even imagine how this must be for her. He'd been trying to be comforting, but if he was forced to divorce Tommy and marry some other guy, he would feel exactly the same way.

Gail saw the downcast look on his face, and she felt bad now. He'd only been trying to help. So she gave him a gentle nudge. "Thanks for being my friend, Barry," she said to him, and his expression brightened.

Cas opened the drawstring. "You will all pick a stone from the bag now," he said to the men. "There are six black stones and one white one. The man who chooses the white stone will be the..." he faltered for a moment, as the uncomfortable silence hovered over the room.

"...the lucky one," Frank finished for him.

Cas shot him a grateful look, extending the bag towards the men. "Who wants to go first?"

"I will," Dean said, stepping up. "I think we should all pick one, and then show and tell, at the same time." He reached into the bag, chose a stone, and held it in his closed fist.

Gabriel and Bobby reached for the bag simultaneously, and Gabriel smirked. "Age before beauty," he said to Bobby, withdrawing his hand.

Bobby glared at him, reaching into the bag. "I'm not too old to sock you one," he said to Gabriel. "Besides, last I looked, you were thousands and thousands of years older than me, ya smartass." He chose a stone, keeping his fist closed over it. Bobby thought Dean's idea of showing the stones all at once was a good one. That way, they'd get it done in one quick shot, rather than potentially prolonging the suspense.

Gabriel picked next, and then Riley stepped up eagerly. Gabriel gave the young Angel the side-eye. He opened his mouth to ask what shade of brown Riley had on his nose, or some other equally witty comment. But then, the Archangel looked at Cas's tight-lipped expression, and he closed it again.

Sam picked next, then Efram, and then Kevin took the last stone in the bag. They all glanced at each other, then at Gail.

"Ready, Kitten?" Gabriel asked her.

"No," she said, but then she sighed. "Yes."

The men all opened their hands.

Cas grabbed Sam and Dean by their arms and winked them to Dean's room.

"What are we doing here?" Dean asked his friend, puzzled.

"We're going to help you pick out a suit," Cas said, taking the white stone from Dean's hand and placing it on the dresser.

"A suit?" Dean echoed. He was in a daze. When he'd agreed to be one of the seven, Dean hadn't really allowed himself to believe that it would end up being him.

"Yes, Dean," Cas said, as calmly as he could. "You're getting married in a few minutes."

"Well, you can forget it, Cas. I'm not wearing a suit," Dean said angrily. "This isn't a real marriage, right? So just go get your JP guy, or whatever, we'll get 'er done, and then we can get back to drinking. As it is, I'm gonna have to suck up to Nicole now, big time. Maybe YOU can kiss her at midnight, Sammy, 'cause apparently, I'm riding the Celibate Express until July. Damn Angels. Well, at least I'll be able to celebrate Independence Day right."

Sam gave Dean a crooked smile. He was dazed, too. If he was to be dead honest, for all the talks he'd given himself, he had been disappointed when he'd opened his fist and seen the black stone in his palm. But then, as he'd looked down the line at the others and spotted the white stone in his brother's hand, Sam's heart had skipped a beat. Now, he was facing a bit of a dilemma. Gail was technically going to be his sister-in-law in a few minutes, even though it would be in name only. But that meant she would be living here in the bunker, for the next six months. Was it wrong that he felt really happy about that fact?

Cas was looking at Dean, doing the slow burn. "You chose the sacred stone, Dean," he said in a clipped tone. "You were made aware of the implications. If you don't wish to wear a suit, that is your decision. But I expect you to treat Gail with the care and respect that she deserves. You will be her husband, Dean. I know you've never been married before, but surely you understand what that entails, do you not? Tonight is your wedding night."

Dean looked at him with suspicion. "Why? What do you mean?" His eyes widened, then narrowed. "What aren't you telling me, Cas? You'd better not mean...You said..." For a second, he was speechless. "You'd better not be expecting me to...us to..." He couldn't even form a complete sentence now. Cas had better not be talking about - no. No way. He had said that they wouldn't have to -

Now it was Cas who was puzzled. "What, Dean? "Expect you to...what?"

"You know," Dean said, screwing up his face. "Help me out here, Sammy."

Sam held his hands up in surrender. But suddenly, he wanted very much to hear the answer, although there was no way in hell he was gonna be the one to ask Cas the question. "No way, dude," he said to his brother. "You're the groom. YOU ask him."

Dean took a deep breath. "Consummate the marriage," he said quickly, wondering if he had time to duck.

Cas said nothing for a moment, looking at Dean with that inscrutable expression he had perfected. "Wait right here," he instructed, and then he popped out of the room. As the brothers exchanged uneasy looks, Cas popped back into the room, and Gail was with him.

"Gail needs to hear this," Cas said expressionlessly. "Ask your question again, Dean."

Dean was appalled. "Aw, geez, Cas, it was bad enough that you made me say it the first time."

"Ask it," Cas demanded, and now there was a bit of an edge to his voice.

So Dean did, and Gail screwed up her face, just as Dean had a moment ago. "Ewww," she said, looking at Cas. Then she looked at Dean. "Ewww! Don't even!" Gail added.

"Hey!" Dean said indignantly. "How about HER treating ME with some care and respect? I have feelings too, you know! If I said that about HER, you'd smite me into next year!"

Sam was grinning now, but Gail was looking at Cas nervously. He had better not be keeping anything from her now. He had assured her that there did not need to be anything of that nature between her and her so-called husband. If Cas had lied to her about that, so help her, she was going to tell him not to bother proposing to her again at the end of the six months.

But then Cas looked at Dean, and he said evenly, "If you tried anything like that, I would have no choice but to kill you."

"Oh, har, har," Dean said, rolling his eyes. "Very funny, Cas."

But Cas was just staring at him intently. Dean cleared his throat. "You're kidding, right?" he asked Cas.

His friend still said nothing, but Sam smelled a rat now, and he grinned as Cas gave him a quick wink. Dean looked horrified now, although whether it was because he thought that Cas might be serious about the killing part, or because he'd thought just for an instant that he and Gail might have had to consummate their marriage, was unclear. Sam was amused now, and he was also very relieved. Admittedly, Cas had had him going for a minute there, too. Imagine how awkward that would have been, for a number of reasons.

Dean and Gail looked at each other now, and she saw the comprehension dawning on Dean's face. "Good," he said firmly, "'cause I would never, ever - "

"Watch it," Gail said sharply. She was relieved too, but she was trying not to show how much. She blessed Cas for injecting a little levity into a difficult situation, though. Dean should have seen the look on his face. But if she was going to be stuck being married to him for the next six months, she wanted to assert herself, right off the bat. "Besides, at the risk of being redundant, ewwwww," she went on, looking at Dean defiantly. "I"M the one who would never. EVER."

"That'd be like...kissing your sister," Dean said, screwing up his face again.

"You'd better wipe that look of disgust off your face," Gail warned him.

"Yeah? Well, how about getting that look off of YOURS?" Dean retorted. "You know, FYI, hundreds of women haven't found me so disgusting over the years."

"Hundreds?!" Sam exclaimed, rolling his eyes. "Wow, Dean. Conceited much?" He looked at Gail, smirking. "Tens, maybe."

Gail couldn't help but smile now. Bless all of these guys, even Dean. A few minutes ago, this had arguably been the worst night of her life, but now, she was smiling. "It's OK, Dean. I don't need a commercial, or any testimonials," she said sassily. "I have no interest in sampling your product."

He glared at her for another moment, and then, they laughed together. Sam grinned again, and then, Cas even smiled.

"You know what?" Dean said to her. "Out of all the hundreds of women I haven't had sex with, I'm gonna enjoy not having sex with you the most."

"And out of all the thousands of guys I've been forced to marry, I'm the least grossed out by having to marry you," Gail replied pertly.

They smiled at each other for a minute, and then Cas said, "We'll go back out to the library area, then, and I'll get the Justice of the Peace." He had an Angel on standby to perform the ceremony.

"Wait a minute," Dean said, putting his hand on Cas's arm. His friend looked at him. "Yes, Dean?"

"Give me an extra ten minutes to put on a suit," Dean said. Cas smiled.

VIGNETTE - EVERYTHING SHE WANTS

It was nearly three weeks into the New Year, and Cas had thrown himself into his work in Heaven. If he kept extremely busy, he told himself, the time would just fly by. Wouldn't it? That was what he had been telling himself, anyway. But in a strange way, it almost felt like she was in the compound again. Although this time, Cas's exile was self-imposed. Theoretically, he could pop down to Earth any time he wanted to. But the temptation to hug her or kiss her or even hold her hand would be much too strong, especially since Dean had called Cas shortly after the New Year's Eve party to tell him that he and Sam were going out on the road. Gail was fine; she was going to stay behind, in the bunker. And while Cas appreciated the check-in, all he'd been doing after that was picturing Gail sitting down there in the bunker, all alone, with nothing to do and no one to talk to. Then, he'd thought about going down there to keep her company. Maybe they could watch a couple of movies together, or he could read to her. She liked that, and so did he. But then he began to picture her laying on the couch with her feet in his lap as he did. Then, when his voice grew hoarse from reading, he would finally put the book down. Then he would take off her socks and give her a long, loving foot massage, and she would begin to make the sounds that she often made when he was making love to her, doing everything just right...

No. He had to stop thinking about that. It was funny, though, how much more you wanted something when you couldn't have it. He had given her foot massages before that didn't lead to intimate relations, although admittedly, not too often. And they had watched movies together before without canoodling like teenagers, as hard as that might be for their family and friends to believe. Although, once again, usually by the time the credits rolled on the second movie, their cuddling became more ardent, in a manner of speaking.

Cas thought back to New Year's Eve, the last day he had seen Gail. Once Dean had relented and changed into his suit, Gail had had to change from casual clothing, too. But she'd assured Cas she was going to wear something different than the blue dress that she knew was his favourite. So she'd ended up wearing the black skirt from her FBI suit and a yellow blouse, and because Dean's suit was black and his shirt was pale yellow, they'd ended up unconsciously matching. Barry had insisted on taking a couple of pictures for posterity, insisting that they would laugh about it later. Yeah. Much, much later, Gail had thought. Then, the Angel Justice of the Peace had conducted a brief, perfunctory marriage ceremony. There had been an awkward moment when the Officiant had asked Dean if he had a ring to place on Gail's finger. An uncomfortable silence had fallen over the room for an instant. But Dean had another surprise up his sleeve, or more accurately, in his pocket. He pulled out a plain gold band. "This was our mother's," he said simply. "I hope it fits."

Gail looked up at him, open-mouthed. "Dean - she started to say.

He gave her a tight smile. "It's OK. This way, we're keeping it in the family." He slipped it on her finger.

Gail's lower lip trembled. What a sweet thing to say. And what a sweet, lovely gesture. She heard a sniffle, and she looked up at Sam. But it didn't look like he was tearing up, though she saw that he was working his jaw pretty hard. She risked a glance at Cas, but he was standing stoically like the soldier he'd once been, betraying no emotion. Then she heard Frank clear his throat, and she saw that it was her brother who was choking back tears. She wasn't sure if she should be amused, or maybe a little annoyed. But boy, oh boy, was she going to give him a hard time about it later. And as for Dean, she vowed that she was going to be nicer to him because of this thoughtful gesture. Well, until he drove her nuts, anyway. Maybe that could be another pool that they could start.

No one had felt much like making divorce jokes, as Gail had requested at Christmastime. As the Officiant pronounced Dean and Gail husband and wife and bade them to kiss, Dean bent down and kissed Gail on the cheek. Then they turned to the guests.

"We're going to change into something a little more comfortable, and then we'll have some more drinks, and ring in the New Year," Gail announced.

Cas had watched her go down the hall to their old room to change clothing, and he had felt an acute pain in his chest. The pain had started in earnest then, and it had not gone away. Cas had also been touched by Dean's very thoughtful gesture, but when he'd witnessed their friend put Mary Winchester's ring on Gail's finger, it had felt like a dagger piercing straight through Cas's heart. So he had left the bunker shortly after that, and he had not been back since. It had been the same with Nicole. Apparently, she and Dean had had a private talk, and Nicole had told Dean that she was going home. She'd said that she wasn't upset, she just didn't want to ring in the New Year with a boyfriend she couldn't kiss. Truthfully, Nicole was unsure of how she really felt about this whole thing. All she knew was that she didn't want to be there. So Cas had taken her home to Vancouver, on his way up to Heaven. But Nicole hadn't particularly felt like talking to Cas, either. This whole thing was kind of his fault, wasn't it? She would have to take a while to think about how she really felt about this whole mess, and she didn't want to be looking at Cas's sad, basset hound face in the meantime. But she'd thanked him politely for taking her home, and then she'd shown him the door.

Cas had tried to stay busy in Heaven, but everywhere he went reminded him of Gail. He would go to the Garden to liberate souls, only to be reminded of the time that she had come there with him to ascend Paul and Henri. Since Cas usually spent a fair amount of time on Earth, and with Gail, he had deputized a few Angels to serve in the Garden, to search the minds of the souls there. If they were pure, his designates would send them to a specific area for Cas or Bobby to ascend. If the designates found anything which was disturbing to them, those individuals would go to a different area for further examination. This new system he'd instituted was much more expeditious than doing it the old way, but it was so much so that Cas found himself going through the new arrivals quite quickly.

So then he'd started making visits to the Academies. He'd been welcomed with open arms by the instructors, and with wide-eyed awe from the students, who seemed to get younger and younger every time he went. Cas had made the rounds, talking personally to many of the recruits and assisting the teachers here and there. But the simple fact was that he wasn't really needed at the Academies, either. He had done such a good job of delegation that all Cas was now was a figurehead, basically. He could have pushed the issue, but he hadn't wanted to undermine the excellent job his instructors were doing. And of course, he saw Gail in every classroom, too. He remembered her being there to support him on his first day of teaching at the inaugural Academy. Making gentle jokes, and bolstering his confidence. Any time Cas ever felt insecure or unsure of anything, all he had to do was confide in Gail, and she always made him feel confident and strong, like he could do anything.

Cas felt utterly lost. He went to his office and tried to do some long overdue paperwork. But it was boring, and his mind wandered. Now he was thinking about Gail again. As if he'd ever stopped. What was she doing now? Was she thinking of him? Was she as restless as he was? Should he call her? No, he'd better not call her. If she told him she was bored and lonely, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from going to her.

So he bent his head to the files again, but then mercifully, Laurel buzzed him on the Intercom. Cas dropped his pen, blessing her.

He could hear the frown in her voice as she said, "Pamela is here to see you." It was an open secret among their Angel friends that Pamela had designs on Cas. He'd read his Academy instructor the Riot Act when Gail had been held captive in the compound, though. Pamela had tried to engage Cas physically in the gym, and he had read her thoughts. Cas had visited her class recently as he'd visited all of them, and he had shown Pamela no personal warmth whatsoever on that occasion. But apparently, she was not letting that deter her.

Cas sighed. He'd better face this head-on, and he'd better face it now. He asked Laurel to send Pamela in.

She entered the Office, and Cas stood from his chair, out of force of habit. Pamela smiled briefly. Just when she thought he couldn't get any hotter, Cas managed to do it. And seeing him here in the High Office, in the seat of power...But, she'd better check herself. Pamela knew what her problem had been, before. He had unnerved her so much that she had tipped her hand. Cas was like a jungle cat; if he smelled fear or uncertainty, he would pounce. Pamela had done some discreet checking around, and she had found a few longer-serving Angels who had given her first-hand accounts of Castiel's exploits in the Angel Wars. True to form, Pamela's attraction to Cas had been heightened by those stories, rather than dampened. But that was when she'd realized that she had to change her approach to him.

So when she entered his office, Pamela was the consummate professional. "I'm sorry to bother you, my Lord," she said formally, "but, I have some ideas that I believe would be of benefit to the cadets. Is now a good time to have a discussion, or would you like for me to schedule an appointment?"

"No, it might as well be now," Cas said. He gestured to the chair across from his desk. "Please, have a seat."

Pamela sat down, and then so did Cas. He regarded her for a moment, and then he said, "I will be happy to take any suggestions you might have for the Academies under advisement, but please do not think that because my door is open to you professionally, I am extending any sort of invitation for a personal relationship between you and I. Is that understood?"

"Yes, it's completely understood, my Lord," Pamela answered earnestly.

Cas sighed again. "You don't have to call me that. You can still call me Cas."

Pamela tried a smile. "Thank you, Cas. I can understand your reticence. But, I have learned my lesson. I'm very sorry for my previous behaviour. If there's anything I can do to make amends, please let me know. I'm sure that things are difficult enough for you right now, without anything else adding to your problems."

Cas frowned. He was sure that the news about his and Gail's annulment had spread like wildfire throughout Heaven. But only the Angels who were closest to their circle had mentioned anything about it to him. The others were probably too afraid to bring up the subject, he thought wryly. "Thank you for your consideration," he said stiffly.

"It can't be easy, knowing that your wife is married to another man," Pamela pushed on. "I can't believe the ancient laws would dictate something like that. Have you at least been able to see Gail, or talk to her?"

"It's not that I am unable," Cas replied. "We agreed it would just be easier this way."

Pamela nodded. "I understand. So, she's married to your best friend? That must be especially difficult for you. People have told me that he and his brother have been your best friends for years, but I have heard that they also love Gail, too. So presumably, she will be well taken care of."

Cas's frown deepened. Whether or not it was intentional, she was playing upon his insecurities now. Cas's existence was completely empty without Gail, and because he had to avoid the bunker, he was also separated from Sam and Dean. Pamela had very neatly cut to the heart of the matter, under the guise of being sympathetic. So now, Cas broke one of his self-imposed rules: he read her thoughts. She had obviously forgotten that he could do that.

But before Cas had the chance to confront her with what he saw there, there was a quick knock at his door, and an instant later, Gabriel walked in.

"Oh, sorry, Brother," he said unconvincingly. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything, but I have to talk to you about some urgent business." He gave Pamela a baleful look. "So, scram, Pam."

Her mouth tightened, but Pamela said nothing. As far as she knew, she had made a little progress with Cas today, but she'd better not talk back to an Archangel, and push her luck. Even one as rude and smarmy as Gabriel. So she politely excused herself and left the office, closing the door quietly behind her.

Cas sat back in his chair, letting out a long breath. In a way, Gabriel's interruption was very welcome, but it had also postponed the inevitable confrontation. "Why would you bother knocking, if you were just going to walk in anyway?" he asked Gabriel irritably.

The Archangel's eyebrows rose. "Why? I wasn't interrupting anything I wasn't supposed to see, was I?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Cas snapped.

Gabriel flopped down in the chair that Pamela had just vacated. "Why are you letting her come in here, Cas?" he asked wearily. "You know what she's all about. Are you that desperate for female company?"

Cas glared at him. "Why are you here, Gabriel? What is this urgent business?"

Gabe shrugged. "I just made that up. Laurel called over to Liz's office, and I just happened to be there."

Cas's lips twitched, despite himself. "So you rushed over here because you thought I needed protection?"

"Exactly," Gabriel said, but he did not smile. "You're too much of a gentleman, and you're lonely and vulnerable right now. That girl's like a raptor, and she smells an opportunity. Let me guess: she came in here acting all professional, and then suddenly, she was talking about Gail being married to your best friend. Well, your best HUMAN friend. Am I right?"

Cas was startled. "Yes, that's exactly what happened. How did you know that?"

Gabriel sat back in his chair. "I know the type, Cas. I've been stalked like prey, too. There are certain kinds of women who like powerful guys. Let's just leave it at that."

"Well, it doesn't matter," Cas said firmly. "I read her thoughts. She thinks that she'd fooling me, but she's not."

"Good," Gabriel said briskly. "Just don't let her get in your head. Or any other part of you, either."

Cas's lips pursed tightly. "That will never happen. If she makes any advances towards me, I will have her imprisoned."

Gabe was amused. Now that he was separated from Gail, the stick was back, and it was wedged tightly up Cas's butt again. "Yeah? On what charge? Being a dirty little girl?" he said, smirking. "It's too bad I care about Liz so much; otherwise, I'd take her off your hands. But, you can't throw her in the clink for having impure thoughts, Cas."

"No, I suppose not," Cas said evenly, but his gaze was steady now. "Otherwise, a great many of you would be incarcerated, wouldn't you?"

Gabe rolled his eyes. "See your wife, Cas. Or, your ex-wife, or whatever. With every day that goes by, that stick creeps further up your butt."

Cas frowned. "You don't understand, Gabriel. I can't take that chance. She's all alone at the bunker right now."

"I could go see her, if you want," Gabriel offered. "Make sure she's OK."

"No!" Cas said hastily, and then he added in a more subdued tone, "No. I don't want you to do that."

Gabe opened his mouth to retort, but then he closed it again. He didn't want to pick a fight with Cas right now, not if he could help it. The guy was obviously hurting. "Look, Cas, why don't you give her a call, at least? You're not doing yourself any good just sitting here and stewing."

"I'll think about it, Gabriel," Cas said expressionlessly. He picked up his pen.

At first, Gail hadn't really minded having the bunker to herself. She had binge-watched some TV shows she'd been meaning to catch up on, surfed the Internet, and read some of the books in the lore library. But the days grew longer and longer with no one to talk to, and nothing meaningful to do. She had called Bobby on his cell phone to find out if there was any paperwork she could do without having to go to Heaven, but he'd said no, that everything was under control.

She and Cas had made a pact to stay apart, but Gail's resolve was already weakening. It was a bit easier when Sam and Dean were around, because she had them to talk to, and to cook for. She'd even volunteered to do their laundry, just to fill her days. When they'd been there, she could almost fool herself that it was the old days, and that Cas was just off somewhere, maybe doing a couple of errands, and he'd be right back. But that self-deception wore thin in a hurry.

Just when she'd been about to give in and call Cas, her cell phone rang. Dean had gone out and gotten her one before he and Sam had gone out on the road, and she carried it from room to room like a lifeline.

It was Dean. "Sammy and I are coming back tomorrow," he told her. "You OK there? Do you need us to bring you anything?"

Gail was amused. "Ummmm...you realize that I can just pop out of here at any time, right?"

There was a pause, and then he said, "Hey, excuse me for trying to be a good husband, Mrs. Smartass."

Gail laughed. "Okay, in that case, we need a quart of milk, and a loaf of bread. But seriously, we ARE getting low on a few perishables. I can pop out to the store, but I'm not going to buy anything like that when I don't know when you guys'll be home."

"So THIS is what it's like to be married," he joked. "Actually, I just called to give you a heads-up, in case you've gotta sneak the Almighty out the back door before we get there."

"I know you think you're being funny now, but you're really not," Gail said sourly. "You know that's a sore spot for me. Just do me a favour and get home as soon as you can, okay, you guys? I'm going nuts here, all by myself."

She hung up the phone, putting it back in her pocket. OK. One more day. She could make it.

Sam and Dean rolled in early the next morning, and Gail was so eager for their company that she offered to make coffee and breakfast for them as soon as they came in the door.

Sam went right to his room, but Dean dropped his bag on the floor, and sat down at the kitchen table. "Remind me again why you and Cas aren't seeing each other," he said to her.

Gail was setting up the coffeemaker. "I don't know, Dean," she sighed. "We just thought it would be easier."

"Is it?" he asked her pointedly.

"No," she said glumly.

There was silence for a moment, and then Dean said, "Well, since he isn't around to smite me: Make me breakfast, Mrs. Winchester. Hey, at least you have a last name, now."

Gail fixed him with a withering glare. "I think you have me mixed up with one of those 1950s wives, or something. You know, the human ones, that can't zap you into the next area code. Make your own damn breakfast."

Dean smiled slowly. "OK, now I really feel married. No sex, and 'make your own damn breakfast'. Want my cash and credit cards too, while you're at it?"

Gail made a face. "You should be glad I'm not cooking breakfast right now, or there'd be a spatula flying at your head."

"What I hear you saying right now is that you're glad we're home," Dean shot back.

She laughed. "Good, 'cause that's what I'm saying."

As Gail got two mugs out of the cupboard and then opened the fridge, Dean sat there, shaking his head. He had to admit their give-and-take was fun, if a little exhausting, sometimes. Luckily, he'd been around her and Frank for a while now, and he'd seen how they related to each other. Dean was technically her husband, but he dealt with her much as Frank would, and that approach seemed to be working.

She made breakfast for the brothers, asking them how things had gone on their trip. "Do you think you'll be home for a while now?" she asked hopefully.

Sam looked at her with compassion. "Probably not," he said honestly. He and Dean had talked about this. They weren't going to deliberately stay out of the bunker, but they couldn't stay home just on Gail's account, either.

She sighed. Oh, well. This was what they did. She was a grown woman. She would just have to suck it up. "OK, then could you let me into the weapons room?"

"Why?" Dean said suspiciously, and at the same time, Sam said, "What do you mean 'let you in'?"

"It's locked," she told him. "I tried to get in there, to look at the Angel blades. Specifically, Metatron's. If I have to hang around here twiddling my thumbs, I want to have something productive to do. I thought I'd study it. See if I can decipher any more of the Enochian phrases on it."

"It's locked?" Sam said, puzzled. He looked at Dean. "Did you lock it?"

Dean looked vaguely uncomfortable. "Yeah. Force of habit, I guess."

"What do you mean? We never lock the weapons room when we go on the road," Sam persisted.

"What does it matter?" Dean argued. "She's got her blade, doesn't she? Why would she need to go in there?"

"Who are you, Bluebeard?" Gail said to Dean, her lips twitching.

Dean opened his mouth to speak as Sam said, "Bluebeard was the guy - "

"I know who Bluebeard was," Dean said irritably. "Geez, sometimes you guys talk to me like I don't know a damn thing."

"Sor-ry," Sam said, putting his hands up in surrender. He picked up his plate and took it to the sink, rinsing it off. "Come on, Gail, I'll let you into the place. I'm going back to my room to put together a laundry, anyway."

They headed down the hall, with Sam in the lead. Dean traipsed along behind them, hoping to persuade his brother to do his clothes in the same wash.

Sam unlocked the door to the weapons room and flipped on the light. Gail's mouth dropped open. The campaign poster of Cas that she had given them for Christmas as a gag gift was un-defaced, and neatly framed, hanging on the back wall. And, as a further surprise, one of her campaign posters was hanging right beside it.

Gail turned to look at the brothers, astonished. "What the...how did you..."

"Cas snuck one of your posters down here, a while back," Dean told her. "Then, when you gave us his, we decided to put them both in here."

"Don't they look great?" Sam enthused. "You should be very proud."

Tears clouded Gail's eyes. "You guys! I don't know what to say."

"I do," Sam said to her. "The next time we go out on the road, you're coming with us." He smiled as Gail's face lit up. Originally, when Sam and Dean had decided to leave her behind, Sam had thought it was probably for the best. But seeing her at the door when they'd come home, like a little puppy, so eager for company, was making him relent now.

But Dean was frowning. He'd thought that it was settled. He didn't really have anything against the idea of her coming, he guessed; he just didn't appreciate Sam speaking for the both of them like this. It was too late now, though. She was looking way too happy for him to say anything.

There was just one problem, though: "We'd better get a ruling," Dean said.

"What? What do you mean?" Gail asked him, her eyes narrowing. She'd been so happy when Sam said she could go with them. Dean had better not be trying to weasel out of it, now.

"I mean, we'd better call Cas and find out what the rules say about our...situation," Dean retorted. "Does it count as living together if we get separate motel rooms?"

Gail was puzzled. "I don't see why not. Cas and I - I mean, I - have my own room here."

Sam looked thoughtful. "Wait a minute. I think Dean might have a point," he said to her. "I think the rule is that you have to occupy the same domicile. So, if you're away from the bunker, you might have to stay in the same room together."

Gail made a face. "Great. Not only will I be sitting up alone all night, but I'll have to listen to Dean's snoring, too?" She pointed her finger at Dean. "And don't tell me you don't snore, because I know you do."

Dean shrugged. "Well then, I guess it's up to you. Come, or stay here. Your choice, Mrs. Winchester."

"Well, right now it's a moot point, because we don't have any plans," Sam remarked. "I'll do a wash and pick up some groceries, and then we'll see where we're at." He looked at Gail, as if contemplating something else to say. But then he merely turned and left the room.

"I'm gonna get in on that laundry thing, and then we'll call Cas. OK?" Dean said to Gail. "I just want to make sure we don't mess this up."

Gail nodded. "Have you talked to Nicole, Dean? How's she doing? Is she mad at me?"

"Nahhhh," he assured her. "She's not thrilled, but let's face it, I wasn't really seeing that much of her when they were making the movie, anyway. I guess I can keep it in my pants for a while. Me and Nicole are kind of like you and Cas right now; in a holding pattern," Dean told her.

She nodded again. "Good. I just wanted to make sure I wasn't ruining your relationship, or anything."

Dean smiled down at her. "Hey, don't worry about that. If anybody's ruining my relationship, it'll be me. I've gotta say, though: having my wife concerned about my relationship with my girlfriend? Weirdest thing ever."

"I know, right?" Gail said, grinning. She put her hand on his arm. "Thanks for being so cool about this whole thing, Dean. I really appreciate it." Then her expression brightened. "Now, let's go call my boyfriend, in Heaven."


	3. Hard Time In The Big Easy

Chapter 3 - Hard Time In The Big Easy

The brothers had been home for three days when Sam found a potential case on his computer. "Listen to this," he said as Dean entered the library area with two bottles of beer in his hands. He sat one in front of Sam and took a drink from the other one.

"There's something kind of weird going on in New Orleans," Sam continued. "There've been a few unexplained deaths in a cemetery there. The St. Louis Cemetery, it's called. In the last two weeks, three members of the Delacroix family have gone missing, on three separate occasions. All three of them turned up dead of indeterminate causes, at the tomb of Marie Laveau."

"OK, that's kinda weird," Dean acknowledged. Gail had been reading a book at the other end of the library table. She closed it now and changed chairs, moving closer to where the brothers sat. "Do you think it's a ghost?" she asked Sam. It just so happened that she'd been reading about spirits. After the compound, Gail had realized that there was a gap in her education about certain supernatural beings. If she was going to work a case with Sam and Dean, as they'd promised her she could, she wanted to find out more about those kinds of things.

"Could be," Sam said, furrowing his brow. "What's interesting here is that Marie Laveau was a witch, who locals called the Voodoo Queen. And this isn't the first time that weird things have happened around her tomb, either. I'm gonna have to do a bunch of research about this, but I think it's very possible that this is a case."

"Sounds good to me," Dean agreed. "We'll leave first thing in the morning. A voodoo queen witch ghost, huh? Well, that's different." He looked at Gail. "Too bad your dad's not one of the good guys, or we could get him to help out on this."

Gail gave him a baleful look. "Har, har. You're hilarious." She looked at Sam. "Do you have any noise-cancelling headphones I can borrow, seeing as I'm going to have to room with the lumberjack, here?" She gestured to Dean, who looked puzzled. "Is that some kind of crack about my shirt?" he asked her.

"No, it was about your snoring, but now that you mention it..." she said sassily.

Dean rolled his eyes. They had called Cas to find out if they would be required to stay in the same motel room if all three of them went on the road together, and unfortunately, the answer had been yes. It had been a terse conversation. Gail had sat there, leaning forward, staring at Dean's phone on the table as if it was a magic lamp and Cas was going to suddenly materialize out of it like a genie. She had been soaking up every word he was saying and filing it in her brain for later study. It was amazing how starved you could be for the slightest little crumb when you hadn't eaten for a while. Well, metaphorically speaking, of course.

But it seemed that Cas was taking the whole non-communication thing a little too seriously, because he had been brisk with them. Businesslike, even. Yes, Gail and Dean would have to stay in the same motel room, because as Sam had suspected, that would be considered to be the same domicile. All three of them could hear the frown in his voice when he'd said that, but he'd had no further comment to make. Gail had asked him how he was, and how things were going in Heaven, but Cas's replies had been stilted and formal, and then he had told them that he was busy, and he had to go.

Gail had been a little hurt by Cas's tone, but she had also understood why he had adopted it. Cas was a man who felt emotions so intensely at times that he had to shut down his feelings altogether in certain emotionally-charged situations. Like this one. She only wished she could do the same. But at least she was going to have something to do, now. It sure as hell beat sitting around the bunker, pining away.

"You'll be glad to know that the weather there is like fall here, at this time of year," Sam said to Gail now.

Gail brightened. She WAS glad to hear that.

"It'll take us about fifteen hours to drive there, so we'll probably have to stay overnight in Texas, somewhere," Sam remarked, looking at Google Maps. He looked at his brother. "Unless you let me drive."

"Is it your birthday, or something?" Dean quipped.

"You know, I could just pop us all down there," Gail offered, but Dean was shaking his head. "No. No, no, no. That's not how we do things here. You're a Winchester now. Well, temporarily, anyway. No Angel crap." He smirked. "Well, unless we need you to zap somebody."

"Do I have to buy a flannel shirt and grow a couple of feet in height?" Gail joked.

Sam laughed. "No, but I'll warn you right now, you're gonna be hearing the same dozen songs in the car, over and over. And nothing more recent than the early 80s."

Gail grinned. "Tell you what. Maybe you could attach a radio to those noise-cancelling headphones."

Dean rolled his eyes. Great. Now he was gonna have these two, ganging up on him the whole trip. But, looking on the bright side, they were going to New Orleans. Home of good food, great booze, Mardi Gras, and Girls Gone Wild. Sounded good to him.

They stopped for lunch at a restaurant that featured Texas-style barbecued ribs. Dean ordered a full rack of them, and Sam ordered a burrito and a side salad. Dean grinned. "Hey, I just discovered an advantage to being married. Tonight, when that burrito kicks in, Sammy and me'll be in separate rooms."

Sam fixed Dean with a momentary glare, setting up his Tablet on the table. "I figured I'd do a little bit more research while we eat," he said. "I saw that there are a couple of festivals going on right now, but before you ask, it's not Mardi Gras yet," he added, looking at Dean.

Dean's face fell. "Oh."

"I read up on the cemetery," Sam told them. "There's a real history there. The city has a water table, just under the soil. So, colonists buried their dead in higher ground, on the banks of the Mississippi. But when there were floods, the bodies would wash through town."

"Yuk," Gail commented, making a face. "Not cool."

Sam grinned briefly. "So they built a cemetery outside town, and this time, the burials were above ground. But that cemetery filled up pretty quickly, so they were layering bodies, to make room for more. It's believed that beneath the grounds of the cemetery, there are layers of bones, several feet thick."

Gail was nostalgic now, thinking of the catacombs in Paris. This was what her life had been reduced to; waxing nostalgic about creepy bone stories. But the catacombs made her think of Cas, of course. Everything made her think of Cas.

The food came, and Dean dug in enthusiastically, with both hands. "Sammy, could we just get the bottom line, here?" he groused, stuffing his face with ribs. He tore them apart with his hands, getting barbecue sauce all over his hands and face. "I don't really need to know all that. Just tell me about the voodoo ghost lady, already."

Gail was giving Dean the side-eye now. She had sat down beside him in the booth so Sam could have more room on the other side, and it was probably just as well, because this way, she wouldn't have to look at Dean head-on. He was gnawing on a bone now, and once he'd gotten all the meat off of it, he dropped it on the plate. Then he tore off another one, and a few drops of barbecue sauce flew off the rib and splashed on the back of Sam's hand. "Dude!" he exclaimed, grabbing a napkin. Dean shrugged.

A moment later, Sam looked down at the Tablet again, grateful to have something else to look at besides his brother's sauce-smeared face. Gail was bemused. Actually, she wasn't sure if she was amused, or disgusted. Poor Sam. He had to put up with this sort of thing all the time.

"Anyway..." Sam continued, gazing intently at the Tablet, "Marie Laveau's grave is in St. Louis Cemetery, which is the oldest existing cemetery in New Orleans. Like I said, she was known as the Voodoo Queen. Locals still leave items on her grave, because they believe she can grant them favours from the Beyond. She's said to haunt the cemetery at night. It says here that she reportedly even slapped a man once, for making a disparaging remark at her tomb."

Dean laughed, and Gail stole another glance at him. Now he was even more messy, if such a thing was possible. It looked like he even had some barbecue sauce in his hair. Unbelievable.

Sam was trying to ignore him. "In the 1930s, a drifter fell asleep in the cemetery, and he was woken up by a strange sound. He stumbled around until he was standing in front of Marie's tomb, and reportedly, he saw a naked, glowing woman laying there."

"All right!" Dean remarked, grinning. Gail rolled her eyes. It was going to take a truckload of wet wipes to get that mess off of him now.

"Yeah, not so much," Sam replied. "The naked woman's body was entwined by a snake."

"Gross!" Dean exclaimed. He dropped the rib he'd been holding onto his plate. "I think I just lost my appetite."

"You should have led off with that part," Gail quipped to Sam. She slid her napkin over to Dean, as Sam laughed.

As Dean started to wipe his face and his hands, Sam said, "This is interesting: there's a story about three drunk guys, who made a bet one night. Two of them bet the other one that he would be too chicken to climb the cemetery wall, and drive a spike into Marie's tomb. He took the bet, and then left. His buddies waited till the next morning, but he didn't come back. Then, when the cemetery gates opened at dawn, they hurried to the tomb and found their friend, laying on the ground dead. Apparently, he did hammer the nail, but because it was dark and he was drunk, he'd run it through his coat, as well as the stone wall of the crypt. The authorities said that he probably believed that he was being held in place by an unknown force, and that he died of fright. But he was a young man, and his friends said that he didn't scare easy." Now that Dean was cleaning himself up a little, Sam took a moment to take a few bites of his own lunch.

"That sounds like the people you told us about," Gail commented. "Delacroix, right? Three members of the same family?"

Sam nodded, pleased that she had been paying such close attention. "That's right," he said, taking a drink of water.

"So, did this Marie What's-Her-Face practice voodoo, or what?" Dean asked. He was still working on wiping the sauce from his face. Gail noticed with amused fascination that he had some on the tip of his nose. She decided to wait and see if he would get it or not.

So did Sam, or he was just used to that kind of thing from his brother by now, because he merely replied, "That's unclear, but it says here that she had a snake named 'Zombi', so I guess the implication is, that it was her that that derelict saw. Apparently, she started out as a hairdresser, working in rich white people's homes. She made a bunch of money practicing occult rituals for her contacts, and then she opened up a brothel."

Dean smirked. "So, we've got a naked madam voodoo ghost witch," he said, taking a swig of the beer he'd ordered with his lunch. "That is awesome."

"Don't forget hairdresser," Gail chipped in. "Well, I could use a new 'do."

Dean looked at her. "The only 'do' you're gonna get from this chick is a 'voo-do'."

She laughed delightedly. "So, you don't think her voodoo is hoodoo?"

"Nahhh, I think it's doo-doo," Dean shot back, and Gail laughed again. "I feel like you do," she said pertly, and the two of them cracked up.

Sam was shaking his head, looking at the pair with an indulgent smile. "Are you guys finished?" he said.

Gail grabbed a napkin, dabbing the barbecue sauce from Dean's nose. "Yeah, I think so," she said affably. "Thanks for the laugh, Mr. Winchester," she said to Dean.

"Anytime, Mrs. Winchester," he replied.

"Anyway," Sam continued, "she sold voodoo dolls to people, and potions, and gris-gris bags."

"What kind of bags?" Dean asked him, curious. Sam turned the Tablet towards his brother. "Griss-griss?" Dean asked, squinting at the screen.

"It's pronounced 'gree-gree', Dean," Sam said patiently.

"'Gris' is pronounced 'gree'?" Dean said doubtfully.

"We've had this discussion before," Sam said, sighing. "It's French." He looked at Gail. "He thought the car race was pronounced 'Grand Pricks'."

Gail burst out laughing. "No way!" she exclaimed. "I should be writing these down, to tell Frank later!"

Sam was happy to see Gail laughing like this. She'd been so down without Cas around. "Shut up, Sammy," Dean grumbled.

"Where was I?" Sam asked rhetorically. "Oh, yeah. Gris-gris bags. They're like hex bags, only the opposite. They're supposed to be worn to give you good luck." He grinned. "Believe it or not, it says here that some modern women wear them as a form of contraception."

Both of the men looked at Gail. "Hey, what are you looking at ME for?" she said, shrugging. "Luckily, I never had to worry about that stuff when I was..." she lowered her voice "...human. But even if I was still in that position, I would never rely on something like that. I mean, come on."

"So we'll see what we can find out about these Delacroix people," Sam said, pushing his plate away and shutting his Tablet off. "I didn't see any connection in what I read here, but I wonder if it's some kind of family vendetta, or something. A lot of these old-time families have feuds that can last for generations. It could be Marie's ghost, or it could just be a person who's looking to take advantage of her legend."

"Guess we'll find out," Dean said, signaling to the server for the cheque. He looked at Gail. "You're a cheap date. I can't remember the last time I took a woman to a restaurant when it didn't cost me a dime."

Gail glared at him. "I'd watch the way you phrase that, if I were you," she warned him. "In five months, I'll be your ex-wife. I wonder if Heaven's got a policy on alimony."

"Hey, I've got a line for Frank," Sam piped up. "We're going to The Big Easy, or, all of Dean's girlfriends, before he met Nicole."

"Up top," Gail said, and she and Sam high-fived across the table.

The cheque came, and Dean reached for his wallet, shaking his head at the two of them. "So we'll keep going for a while, and then we'll stop for the night around Dallas," he said.

Gail felt a pang. Dallas. That was where they had gone, all four of them, to confront Metatron. That was where she and Cas had had their first real fight. Well, if you could call it that. Gail had left Cas then, and it was Dean who had convinced her to come back to him. She put her hand on Dean's arm. "Thanks a lot, Mr. Winchester." She looked at Sam. "Thank you both. This isn't exactly the best time for me, but you two are making it so much better. So I just wanted to say: thanks a lot."

"No problemo," Dean said. "Now, move it. I've gotta hit the can before we get on the road."

"Wow," she quipped, sliding out of the booth. "Any more romantic talk like that, and I'm going to have to let Cas know he's got some heavy competition."

Dean smirked as he moved past her to the restrooms. An interesting case, great food, and a few good laughs. It really didn't get much better than this. The only thing that would make things even better would be if Cas was with them. He sighed. Oh, well. You couldn't win 'em all.

"Agents Taylor and Rhodes," Sam said to the police chief, by way of introduction. "And this is Agent LeBon," he added, gesturing to Gail. "She's a trainee, but she speaks a little French, so the Bureau asked us to bring her."

Dean eyed them suspiciously. Sam had told Gail before they'd left home that she could pick the names this time, probably just to make her feel included. Dean wondered what kind of lame-ass pop group those names were from, but then, he decided he was better off not knowing.

"Bonjour," Chief Rousseau said to the trio. "Welcome. I'm a little surprised the Bureau is involved. We're acting on the premise that the deaths are all related, of course, but the killer is presumed to be local."

"What makes you say that?" Dean asked him.

"There are a couple of reasons," the man replied. "First of all, there aren't too many people outside of the state, or even the city, who know about the legends surrounding Marie Laveau. Also, we have the King Cake Festival going right now, so our resources are spread a little thin. Only someone local would know that. And lastly, the Delacroix family are one of the wealthiest 'old money' families in the city. All three victims went missing from a jazz funeral for a Delacroix, and each victim was found dead outside Mama Laveau's crypt. There were no outward signs of a struggle, and no visible wounds. Because of the family's standing in the community, the autopsies were expedited, but they were inconclusive. So, basically, we have no official cause of death."

"How old were the victims?" Sam asked Rousseau.

The Chief was nodding. "I asked about that, too. Normally, the investigation would be below my pay grade, but because of the so-called political nature of the case, I figured I had better keep informed. One of the vics was in his late 70s, but the two others were younger, and with no history of medical problems. Right now, we're going on the premise that a family member is involved. There's a lot of money at stake."

Gail was puzzled. "Yes, but if there's no official cause of death, how were the victims killed, then?"

"I think they were scared to death. Literally," the Chief replied. He sat back in his chair. "It'll probably seem strange to you, but people here take voodoo very seriously. Many of them are extremely superstitious. Stories are passed down from generation to generation, and even modern-thinking people are taught from a very young age to fear practitioners of the occult. People prey on the superstitious, and the gullible."

"You mentioned that the vics went missing from a jazz funeral," Sam said. "I've read about those."

Rousseau smiled. "Many people think they're strange, or even disrespectful. But that's another long-standing tradition in our city. The procession to the cemetery is very solemn, and dirges or hymns are played. But after the deceased is entombed, the music becomes upbeat, and the mourners all begin to dance. The change in tempo celebrates the life of the deceased, and is designed to please the spirits who protect the dead. There are even mourners called the second line, whose sole purpose is to dance out of the cemetery following the entombment. That's why no one noticed the absence of the victims immediately after the funerals. Too many mourners to keep track of one missing person."

"Thanks, Chief," Dean said, standing from his chair. Sam and Gail followed suit. "I don't know if this is one for us, but the Bureau's paying our expenses for the week, so we'll probably stick around. What's this King Cake thing you were talking about? Is it anything like Mardi Gras?"

The Chief smiled again. "Regrettably, no. It's one of the first festivals of the Mardi Gras season, but Mardi Gras itself isn't until just before Lent. Still, we have superb food here, and music, too. Go down to the Vieux Carre, to some clubs."

"That's the French Quarter," Gail translated to the brothers. "But I have to admit, I've never heard of King Cake before."

"King Cake is a large, colourful pastry," Rousseau told them. "Try it. There's a very special surprise in the middle. If you're the one to get the piece with the surprise, it's supposed to be very good luck. Welcome to our city, Agents. I'm sorry you have wasted your time." He shook hands with each of them, and then they left the building.

"What was THAT all about?" Sam asked Dean, curious. "We didn't get very much from him."

"Guy was stonewalling us," Dean said. "There wasn't any point in hanging around. You heard him; he wasn't gonna give us anything. I say we just go change, do some tourist-y stuff, and then go to the cemetery tonight."

They went back to the motel, and Gail took her bag into the bathroom in Sam's room to change into casual clothes, while the brothers changed in her and Dean's room. When they were ready, the three of them got into the Impala and drove closer to the downtown area. "I wanna get one of those King Cakes," Dean announced. "Let's see what all the fuss is about." He led the others into a bistro that had a chalkboard outside, advertising lunch specials with complimentary King Cakes.

"You know, I'm really starting to feel left out, here," Gail complained as the brothers perused their menus. "If I'd known you guys were going to spend this much time eating, I would've asked Cas to give me an appetite for six months."

Sam saw how her expression changed when she'd mentioned Cas's name, and he felt bad for her. "Would you like a glass of wine?" he asked her.

Gail shrugged. "You know what? Sure. Why not?"

Dean nudged her. "Hey, half this thing's in French," he whined, showing her the menu. "What's this?" He pointed. "And this?"

Gail smiled at him. She was pretty sure she knew what the brothers were doing now. As soon as she'd mentioned Cas's name, they had sprung into action, trying to distract her. She peered at Dean's menu. "That's gumbo," she told him, pointing. "It's a shellfish stew, served over rice. Or you could have the jambalaya, or the etouffee. They're all pretty similar. They'll probably be a bit spicy, but you like that, don't you?"

Dean winced a bit. "Yeah, as long as it's not killer." He flipped a page on the menu. "Maybe I'll just have ribs again."

"Please don't," Gail pled with him. "In fact, I'll pay you money to eat anything else."

Sam laughed, and after they'd placed their order, Gail asked to borrow his Tablet, so she could look at it while the men were eating. She perused a few tourist websites for the city. "We could go walking on Bourbon Street," she told the brothers. "There are a bunch of clubs there that play live music. Mind you, it looks like it's pretty much a choice between jazz, and Zydeco. And I'm not really a fan of either."

"I wish it was Mardi Gras," Dean remarked. "When's the last time you and me went to anything like that, Sammy?"

"We've NEVER been to anything like that," Sam replied.

"Well, we should," Dean mused, "before we get too old to enjoy it."

"There's a voodoo tour," Gail read from the Tablet. "And, get this: it goes through Marie's cemetery."

"I doubt she's gonna show up and say hi, though," Sam said, flashing a grin.

"Oh, well, you can also go to the voodoo museum, and buy potions in the gift shop," Gail continued, and now she was frowning. "Can you believe that? What do they think this is? The whimsical tale of a boy wizard, or something?" She laughed derisively, without any humour. "Maybe I should buy some of their expensive toilet water and throw it in my dad's face, next time I see him. That'd show him."

Sam and Dean finished their meal, and then the server brought the King Cake to their table. It was an odd-looking thing, resembling a flat loaf of bread, with brightly coloured green and purple icing on top.

"Wouldja look at that," Dean said dryly. "I don't know whether to eat it, or give it to Gail to wear as a hat."

Before she could suggest what she'd like to see Dean wear as a hat, Sam took a knife and started to cut into the pastry. But his knife struck something hard, in the middle. "That must be the surprise that Chief Rousseau was talking about," the younger Winchester commented. He grabbed a fork, using it and the knife to pull the pastry apart, and...

"Oh, my God. No way," Gail breathed, shocked by what she was seeing.

"A baby," Dean said. "There's a damn baby in the middle of the thing."

"I wonder if that means our meal is free?" Sam quipped. Gail went back on the Tablet, and a moment later, she looked up at the brothers. "The baby doll is supposed to represent Jesus," she told them. "It's considered good luck to get the piece with the baby in it."

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Dean said angrily. "What the hell kind of dessert is that, anyway?"

"Probably my dad's favourite," Gail said sarcastically, but then she made a face. "I'm sorry, you guys. That was in poor taste."

"Let's get out of here," Dean said with disgust, throwing money down on the table. He sighed wistfully. "All I wanted was beads and bare boobies. Was that too much to ask?"

Sam and Gail looked at each other, and then they burst out laughing. "Come on, hubby. We have a dead voodoo ghost hairdresser to confront," Gail said to Dean, taking him by the arm.

It was dark outside now, and Gail winked herself and the brothers into the cemetery about an hour after the gates had closed. They all wore dark clothing, and the brothers had flashlights. Sam was carrying a duffel bag with an assortment of weapons inside. Since they didn't know exactly what kind of entity they were dealing with, they had come prepared.

The moon was nearly full, so once their eyes adjusted, it was possible to walk around without the need for much artificial light. Sam had obtained a map of the cemetery's tombs from its website, and he led the way towards Marie Laveau's crypt now, shining his flashlight on the various mausoleums to use as landmarks.

This was weird for Gail. As long as she'd known the brothers, she had never been on a ghost hunt with them before. She wondered how this was supposed to work, exactly. Were they just going to stand there at the woman's tomb, and ask her to come and talk to them? If Gail was Marie, she wouldn't do that. Why on earth would she do that? Two Hunters with a duffel bag full of weapons, and an Angel. Yeah. That could only end up good for her. But Sam and Dean were the experts, not Gail, so she traipsed along behind.

"We're gonna use a witch-summoning spell," Dean said from behind her, as if reading her mind. "Hopefully, that'll work." Then she could hear the smile in his voice as he added, "I've gotta say, it was nice not to have to climb the fence, for a change. Every time I do that, I look at those metal spikes they always have at the top, and I'm scared that if I slip, my dating career is gonna be all over, if you know what I mean."

"We always know what you mean, Dean," Sam said. Gail could envision him rolling his eyes, and she smiled.

A couple of minutes later, Sam said, "Here it is." He shone the flashlight on the crypt that had the name "LAVEAU" embossed on the front. Gail looked down. There were an assortment of flowers, candles, and other offerings at the bottom.

Sam put the bag down on the ground, asking Gail to hold the flashlight. She shone it downwards into the bag, so he could see to take out the items for the spell. He took out a bowl, threw a few ingredients in it as if he was putting together a salad, and then he straightened up from his crouch. He was holding a gun now. "Witch-killing bullets," Sam explained to Gail, gesturing with the gun.

"I've got salt and holy water, and a Demon knife, for insurance," Dean chipped in.

"And I've got my blade, and my Angel mojo," Gail said, taking her knife out of her pocket. She was a little nervous, but she told herself not to be ridiculous. She'd faced all kinds of evil otherworldly beings before, and Sam and Dean were expert Hunters.

Sam struck a match, then lit the matchbook on fire and dropped it into the bowl. He had just started to recite the incantation when a figure suddenly appeared, moving out from behind the crypt building.

"Look out, Sam!" Gail exclaimed. He wheeled around. "Marie Laveau?" Sam asked the shadowy figure.

"Not exactly, dearie," Rowena said dryly.

The three of them stood frozen in shock. Then, finally, Dean said, "What are YOU doing here?"

"I might ask you the same thing," Rowena responded, taking the hood off of her head and letting her long red hair spill over her shoulders. Then she looked around. "Where's Castiel?" she asked warily.

"He's not here," Gail said softly. She was staring at Rowena. This was the first time she'd seen the witch since finding out that Rowena was her mother.

"What a shame," Rowena said sarcastically.

"Have you been killing those people?" Sam asked her.

"No," Rowena said angrily. "You know, just because I'm a witch, that doesn't mean I just run around killing people. Well, not unless they deserve it."

"I know you're my mother," Gail blurted out.

Rowena let out a breath. "Did Raguel tell you that?" she said, after a moment.

"No. Crowley did," Gail told her.

Rowena's smile was wicked now. "So Fergus knows now, too? Is that why Castiel isn't here? Has he divorced you?"

"What are you doing here?" Dean repeated through gritted teeth.

Rowena looked at him disdainfully. "I'm here to talk to Mama Marie, the same as you are." She sighed. "Since you know the truth now, I suppose there's no harm in telling you why I'm here. I need to talk to her, because she was at the solstice celebration that night, the one where you and Fergus were conceived. I've been tracking down the attendees, trying to find Vincent. He and I have to have a little chat."

Gail laughed shortly. "Well, isn't that funny. As it turns out, you could have just asked me. Rob and I recently spent a couple of horrifying weeks as his unwilling guests, late last year. Oh, and by the way, Frank's family are all just fine, no thanks to you. Still, it's too bad you couldn't have been at the compound. We could have had a nice evil family reunion before we killed you." She touched the spring on her blade.

"No, no, you've got me all wrong," Rowena said hastily. She had a couple of tricks up her sleeve, but she was outnumbered now, and she was convinced that this had been a trap. "You don't understand," she went on, holding her hands up in supplication. "I'm not here to cause anyone any harm. It's Vincent I'm seeking vengeance upon, and Raguel, and Fergus, and all of those men who have treated me like such dirt over the centuries."

Gail was regarding her with real interest now. "If I told you that Vincent and Raguel are supposedly in the Caribbean together, would you have a way of tracking them down?" she asked her mother. "They're shielded to us."

"Then we should work together, as a team," Rowena said ingratiatingly.

"Oh, come on!" Dean exclaimed. "You can't be serious!" He looked at Gail. "You're not falling for this b.s., are you? She's just trying to save her own skin."

Sam brandished the gun. "We came here to kill one evil witch; might as well make it two," he said grimly.

"You see?" Rowena said to Gail, resentfully. "That's just one more example of what I was talking about. The men in our lives are always trying to hold us back. If any two people deserve to take revenge on Vincent, it's you and I." She frowned. "Where is Castiel, really? If you're here, he must be nearby. Is this a trap you've set for me?"

"No," Gail answered honestly. "We didn't even know you were going to be here. Castiel isn't here because Patricia nullified our marriage when she was God. I'm actually married to Dean at the moment. It's a long story." Now, why had she gone and told Rowena about that? The woman may be her mother, but she was still the enemy. Wasn't she? Was Gail really that desperate for a parental figure?

"I wish I could say I'm surprised, but I'm not," Rowena said scornfully. "That's just one more example of how we women are oppressed. These are supposed to be modern times, aren't they? Yet here you are, married to a man you don't love, forced to live apart from the one that you do. And, for what? To satisfy an ancient code, written by men. That's just another excuse for telling us what to do. To treat us like chattel. I've had to deal with that kind of treatment all of my life. You know what, Gail? I'm glad that you're my daughter. Together, we can stand up to all of them."

Gail was thinking about what Rowena was saying, and now, she was starting to get mad. Rowena was a lot of things, and many of them weren't very nice. But, in this instance, she was also right.

"Rowena? Comment ca va, Cheri?" a voice said from behind them. They all turned around to see a light-skinned black woman, standing beside the crypt.

"Hello, Marie," the red-haired witch said calmly. "Thank you for coming."

"What the hell is this, a witches' convention?" Dean said angrily. He was still holding the salt and holy water, and he glanced uncertainly at them both now, unsure of what to use in this situation.

Marie waved her hands, and both of the items flew out of Dean's hands. "Those will be useless, as are those blades you have. And a gun? Please," she said scornfully. "You bring Hunters and an Angel to my resting place, Rowena? Why?"

"She didn't bring us," Sam said. "We're here to talk to you about the Delacroix family."

"Oh, them," Marie said, waving her hand dismissively. "Don't worry about them. Just a little issue between families, that's all."

"Did you kill those people? Yes, or no?" Dean asked Marie.

"Oui, but that is none of your concern," she replied offhandedly.

"Sorry, lady, but we're Hunters. That makes it our concern," Dean said to her.

"And who is the Angel?" Marie asked them, approaching Gail. "Why is she here?"

"She's my daughter," Rowena said.

"Really? Is she here to join us?" Marie said, starting to smile.

"Never," Sam said, his jaw tightening. He shot Marie with the gun he was still holding.

"I told you, it won't - " Marie started to say, but then she clutched her stomach, where the bullet had gone. It had passed through her, of course, but she was bleeding, nonetheless.

Sam shot her again, and then again. "Those are witch-killing bullets, but they're also made out of silver," Sam said. He shot Marie one more time, and she fell to the ground. Then, she disintegrated.

Gail looked up at Sam, astonished. "Is that it?" she asked him. She was awestruck. "Is she gone?"

Sam nodded. "Yep. That's it. I added the silver component a while back, when I was researching voodoo, and zombies. I was trying to develop something that might potentially kill Vincent. When I read about Marie's legend, I decided to try these out on her." He frowned. "But I don't think they'll work on your father, though."

"You imbecile!" Rowena shouted at Sam. "I never even got the chance to talk to her! She might have been able to help us locate him!" She raised her arms to hex Sam, but Gail stepped in front of him.

"He was just trying to do his job," Gail said to her mother. "We can find Vincent on our own. We don't need to align ourselves with a voodoo witch, who kills humans. It's bad enough we're standing here talking to YOU right now. Now, lower those arms. I don't want to kill you again, but I will, if you don't leave Sam and Dean alone!" But then she wheeled around, looking at the brothers. "But you guys have to stand down, too. I want to talk to Rowena some more." Gail turned back to her mother. "What exactly did you have in mind? I might be willing to talk about a temporary partnership. I have a score to settle with all three of those guys, too."

"What did they do to you, dearie?" Rowena said sympathetically, approaching Gail slowly.

"Don't fall for her crap, Gail," Sam said anxiously. "She's playing you."

But Gail wasn't so sure. Still, she wanted to make sure they would be safe, so she turned back around to face Sam and Dean, reached out, and gave them the push back to the motel.

"You did the right thing," Rowena told Gail. "Let's go to my hotel room and talk."

The women had been talking for a while in Rowena's hotel suite now, and Gail realized she had been doing most of the talking. After a hesitant start, she had gotten on a bit of a roll. First, Gail had told Rowena once more about her experiences with Vincent at the compound, but, in more detail. Then, she had confided in her mother about Cas having killed himself, rather than harm Gail at Raguel's behest. And now, she was finishing up by telling Rowena about her harrowing ordeal in Hell.

Gail was crying now. She hadn't really realized how all of those things had just piled up, one on top of the other, until she just couldn't take it anymore. And now, she was married to a man she liked but didn't love, forced to live apart from the one that she did, just like Rowena had said. Why the hell did Gail keep letting this kind of crap happen to her? Since when did a bunch of men run her life?

"And then, Crowley, or Fergus, or whatever you want to call him, put a mark on the back of my head and said that it would poison me if I didn't do him a favour when he asked me to!" Gail wailed. "He put me through all of that crap in Hell, and then he had the nerve to slap that Demon curse on me! Cas and I went to see him and he supposedly deactivated it, but the mark is still there. I can feel it, whenever I take a shower."

"If you'll let me, I'll have a look at it," Rowena offered. "If it's a curse, I may be able to remove it from you."

"Sure," Gail said. "Thanks." She lifted her hair in the back, turning around. "It's right here."

Rowena peered at the mark. She puzzled over it, just as Cas had. She had never seen the Demon Tablet, but the pattern of the marking looked familiar to her, nonetheless. She touched it lightly with her fingertips.

Crowley was sitting behind his desk in Hell, having a drink, when his head snapped up. Got her! He recited a few words in the ancient language, smiling as he did so.

"Ow!" Gail exclaimed. The instant Rowena had touched the mark, it had started to burn. "What did you do to me?" she demanded, wheeling around to face Rowena.

"Nothing," Rowena said. She was mystified. "I merely touched it."

"Then why does it hurt so much, all of a sudden?" Gail said, bewildered.

"I believe we've already covered that, sweetheart," Crowley said. "It's a Demon curse." He looked at Rowena. "Hello, Mother."

Gail was open-mouthed. "What the hell is going on here?" she asked the two of them.

"That's what I'd like to know," Rowena fumed.

"It's simple," Crowley responded coolly. "The two of you are going to die."

He snapped his fingers, and a dozen of his Demon minions appeared, with weapons at the ready. Crap! Gail thought, panicked. She sent out the call to Cas immediately. This was no time to worry about their self-imposed separation. She took out her blade and went on the attack, but an Angel blade wasn't going to kill Demons. At best, she might be able to hold them at bay until Cas got there. The only problem was, Gail didn't know where "there" was. Rowena had taken her arm at the cemetery, said a few words, and suddenly, they'd been here. And she doubted very much that Cas could see them with The Eye, or he would have been here by now.

Rowena was fighting the Demons too, holding her own, but there were too many of the black-eyed bastards. "What did you do?" Gail yelled at Crowley, trying to buy them some time. She knew how he liked to talk sometimes, like the cliche bad guys in the movies. She extended her arms and blasted two Demons to the opposite side of the room, and slashed at a third with her knife.

"Simple tracking spell," the King said calmly. "When you and Castiel came to see me, I altered the mark to activate once Mummy Dearest touched it. Then, all I had to do was sit back and wait. And in case you're wondering, when I arrived, I threw a cloaking spell on the place, in addition to mother's. That's what must be taking Castiel so long to get here. I decided you couldn't be trusted to retrieve those codices for me, so I'm here to get them myself. And your dead bodies will just be the icing on the delicious King Cake."

Dean had called Cas the second he and Sam had landed back at the motel, and Cas had popped there immediately. He was extremely upset, to say the least. He sent out The Eye, but Gail and Rowena were nowhere to be found. He called out for her on their frequency, and she answered him, telling him what was going on. But as far as what hotel they were at, she said she had no idea. Could the guys help Cas figure out where she might be? Gail pleaded with him. She and Rowena were fighting fiercely, but she wasn't sure how long they could hang in there, or how patient Crowley would be until he decided to take matters into his own hands. He couldn't kill Rowena himself, but if he wanted to, he could surely kill Gail. She would put up as tenacious a fight as she could, but if Cas didn't get there soon, Gail would be in deep, deep trouble.

Cas was in agony now. Why had he ever thought that it was a good idea to stay in Heaven, letting Gail go on a case alone with the Winchesters? They were very good at what they did, but they were only humans. He was pacing the floor as Sam was searching for five-star hotels in New Orleans. He was sure that Rowena wouldn't have settled for any less. He found three. Cas swore viciously. Which one?

"The Hilton is the one that's closest to the cemetery," Sam told their friend. "Do you want to try that one first?"

Cas threw his hands up in frustration. Why not? They had to start somewhere. An instant later, all three men were standing in front of that hotel. They walked into the lobby.

"We'll go talk to them at the Front Desk," Dean told Cas. "Maybe if we grease the guy's palm, he'll tell us if Rowena's staying here."

But Cas couldn't wait for something that would take that long. "I'm going to pop upstairs, to the upper floors," he told the brothers. "If you are able to get the room number, call me immediately on my cell phone. But I may be able to pick up on her signal, if I am close by." He disappeared suddenly, without warning. Sam and Dean exchanged quick glances, then moved to the Concierge's desk.

Cas was wandering frantically through the halls, shouting out to Gail on their frequency. He could hear her voice in his head, but it sounded very far away. Was he in the right hotel? It could be the cloaking that Rowena must have on her room, but it felt too strong to be a mere witch's spell. Cas was confused now. Should he try one of the other hotels, maybe?

But then, he heard it: a crashing sound, coming from down the hall. He popped over there and extended his arm, blasting open the suite door.

As soon as Cas entered the suite, he waved his hand, disintegrating Crowley's minions instantly. The second he did, Rowena turned to Gail, furious. "You betrayed me," she hissed at her daughter.

"No, I didn't," Gail insisted. She pointed at Crowley. "HE told us the mark was deactivated!"

"That was because your husband, or should I say, ex-husband, told me that he would destroy the codices, before letting you hand them over to me," Crowley argued.

Gail couldn't believe it. This was the stupidest, most dysfunctional conversation she'd ever had. If she'd had any doubts whatsoever that they were all related before, she sure didn't now.

"What? You mean these?" Cas said casually. He waved towards Rowena's satchel, opening it, and then the documents were in his hands. Or, so he'd thought. But when he looked down at them, he saw that they were fakes. "These are not the codices," he remarked. "Where are they?"

"Someplace safe. And I'm not telling any of you where," Rowena said spitefully. "If you kill me now, Castiel, you'll never get your hands on them. And if you think I'm going to let YOU have them, Fergus, you're delusional. I like things better this way. Just call them my insurance policy." She glared at Gail. "You know, I really thought that you and I might be coming to an understanding. But you have betrayed me, the same as everyone else in my life has betrayed me. You had your chance, Gail."

Rowena lifted her arms in the air, her eyes blazing. "FERENZI!" she screamed, and the room was suddenly filled with dark black smoke.

Cas waved his hand, and the smoke cleared, but Rowena was gone. He looked at Crowley, his eyes flashing bright blue.

"Mothers-in-law," Crowley said nervously. "Am I right?" He snapped his fingers, and then he too was gone.

Cas stood there breathing heavily for a moment. He had all this pent-up rage, and no one to kill. Then, a moment later, Sam and Dean came stumbling through the door. As soon as Cas had blasted it off its hinges and eliminated the Demons that had been attacking the women, he had replaced the door so as not to arouse suspicion. But he'd left it slightly ajar. The Winchesters were looking around the room at all the broken furniture. Cas waved his hand absently, restoring the suite to its original, pristine condition.

"Sorry it took us so long," Sam gasped. "The Concierge wouldn't give us any information. Said too many VIPs stayed here, and he couldn't be bribed."

"Yeah," Dean added, trying to catch his breath, "but then, this clerk guy called us over and said he might have some info for us, for the right price. But, all the elevators were on other floors, so we ran upstairs. Fourty storeys."

"You guys ran up fourty flights of stairs?" Gail marveled, in a teasing voice. "At your age? Wow. You'd better sit down, before you black out."

Dean made a face, but he pushed past her, sitting down on the bed. Sam remained standing, but he bent at the waist now, gasping for air.

Gail and Cas smiled sadly at each other, and she let out a breath. "Thanks for showing up, sweetie. How are you?"

"Never mind how I am," he said, his forehead wrinkling. "How are YOU?"

She sighed. "I'm okay, Cas. Just another fun outing with my crappy family. You know, the usual."

He continued to stare at her longingly. This was why he had elected to stay away. The impulse to close the gap between them and take her in his arms was so strong that he felt dizzy for a moment.

An instant later, the four of them were back in Dean and Gail's motel room. "I cannot embrace you," Cas said to Gail in his best soldier's voice. "I cannot take that chance."

"Well, I can," Dean said, and he hugged Gail to him. Then he looked at Cas. "I just wanna go on record as saying that this is the stupidest thing I've ever been involved with, Cas. Gail sits up all night while I lay there sleeping, snoring like a buzzsaw, and when I wake up, I can see she's been crying. We haven't heard Word One from you since New Year's Eve. What the hell is WRONG with you, man? Couldn't you at least call her once in a while?" he added angrily. "Don't you even friggin' care?"

"Cas calls me every day, several times a day," Sam said suddenly. "I wasn't supposed to say anything. But, I've been giving him regular updates on Gail." He half-smiled. "He's been kind of driving me nuts, actually."

"So you see, I do care, Dean," Cas said, trying to remain stoic. "I care enough not to let Gail's suffering - and my own - be for nothing. You don't know how many times I've longed to see you, my darling, or hear your voice. But if I give in to temptation and kiss you, or even hold your hand, this whole thing will have been for nothing. However, Dean is right. It's not fair to you to make you feel like I don't care. I will rectify that situation immediately. I love you, Gail."

Then he disappeared.

The three of them had a couple of drinks in Dean's room to decompress from their night, and then Dean finally yawned. "Sammy and I need to get some shuteye," he told Gail. "Are you gonna be OK? You had one hell of a night."

She sighed sadly. "Yeah. I'll be fine. Don't worry about me. With the family I have, tonight was pretty much par for the course. But, hey, at least you guys got rid of the ghost."

"Yeah. I think that was the easiest case we've ever had," Sam said.

"That must be why they call this place The Big Easy," Dean quipped lightly. He yawned again, heading for the bathroom.

After Sam said goodnight and headed for his own room, Dean came out of the bathroom dressed in a T-shirt and sweatpants. At home, he might have slept bare-chested and in his shorts, but he didn't want to make Gail feel uncomfortable, since she had to stay in the same room as him. He said goodnight, got into bed, and a few minutes later, he was sleeping soundly.

Gail sighed again. What a strange night. It had been both wonderful and extremely painful to see Cas. She wished she'd had more time to talk to him.

She grabbed the keycard for the room and put on a sweater, and then she let herself quietly out of their room. Just like Dean wore more clothing than he usually would have in consideration for her, Gail tried not to pop in and out too much, in case she startled him.

Gail had noticed that there was a park around the corner from the motel, and she walked over there now. It was night, but there were street lights illuminating the area, and she had her blade in her pocket, anyway. The neighbourhood was quiet, and frankly, after what she had just experienced, she wasn't too worried about being out there alone. In fact, the way she was feeling, any potential mugger should probably avoid her right now.

She sat there quietly for a few minutes, picturing Cas blasting down the hotel room door and vapourizing those Demons. Then she thought of the look on his face when he'd had to restrain himself from embracing her, and Dean's angry chastisement of Cas.

"It's so hard, not talking to you," she said softly.

Cas's voice came into her head immediately. "Please know that you are always on my mind. Just because I haven't spoken to you doesn't mean I don't miss you."

"I know that, Cas. I miss you, so much," she said miserably.

"Whenever I look at my hand, I feel sad, because it's so empty without yours in it," Cas told her. "You are near me, even if I can't see you. You are with me, even if you are far away. You are in my heart, in my thoughts, and in my life. Always."

Gail was smiling now, but she felt like crying, too. "I never knew it was possible to miss someone so badly," she said.

"I'm not going to say that I miss you," Cas replied. "I'm going to say 'tu me manques'."

"'You are missing from me'," Gail translated. "That's exactly right, sweetie. That's exactly how I feel, too."

They talked back and forth like that for a few more minutes. Gail told him about life on the road with Sam and Dean, and Cas told her that he had asked Sam to keep him posted on how she was doing. "But now, I realize that I was remiss in not talking to you myself," he said to her. "I apologize. I thought I was doing the right thing."

"Well, now that I have something to do, it's not as bad as when I was sitting around by myself," Gail admitted, "but still, I'd like to talk like this sometimes, when you have the time. It's really nice having your voice in my head. If I close my eyes, I can almost pretend you're right here next to me."

"I will always have the time to talk to you. Always," Cas assured her.

"I love you, sweetie," she said.

"It's February the first tomorrow," Cas remarked. "That means we can be together five months from now. That means that one month has passed, already."

Gail smiled. For a moment there, she had a vision of him looking at a calendar, marking off the days with big black Xs. "That's right," she said delightedly. "Glass half full."

They talked for a bit longer, and then Gail told him that Dean wanted to get an early start in the morning. "I'd keep talking to you all night, but I can't hear myself think when I'm in the same room as him. He snores like a freight train!"

"I've had the dubious pleasure," Cas said, and she could hear the smile in his thought. "Goodnight, my darling. We'll talk again soon."

They exchanged "I love yous" and then Gail went back to the motel.

They'd stopped at a diner on the city outskirts prior to leaving town the next morning, and the brothers were just finishing their breakfasts when an item on the TV set that was mounted on the opposite wall caught Sam's eye. He asked their server if he could turn up the volume.

"It's a new month now, but the heartaches continue for the Delacroix family," the anchorwoman was saying. "Phillip Delacroix passed away suddenly last night at the age of 48, after a brief illness. Services will be held at St. Cecilia's Cathedral at 2 pm, and the funeral procession to St. Louis Cemetery will depart at 3. Phillip Delacroix's death is the latest in a string of tragedies that have befallen one of the city's oldest and most prominent families."

The reporter was still talking, but Gail and the Winchesters were no longer listening. They looked at each other, instead. "Are you guys thinking what I'm thinking?" Sam said.

"That the Delacroix family is really, really unlucky?" Gail quipped.

Sam grinned briefly. "Well, yeah. But, either Marie Laveau's not dead, or..."

"Or, it's just a coincidence," Dean said. "But I guess we'd better find out for sure."

"I was wondering if all your cases were that easy," Gail commented. "Well, other than my run-in with my evil family, that is."

Sam frowned. "Now, I'm not so sure. Mind you, they said he'd had an illness of some kind. But 48 is young, and Marie mentioned some kind of family vendetta, or something. I say we get in that funeral procession to the cemetery, and see what happens."

Dean shrugged. "What the hell. 'Never have I ever...been to a jazz funeral'. Right?" He nudged Gail.

"Right," she said pertly. Gail had told the brothers when they'd gotten up that she and Cas had had a nice long conversation overnight, and she seemed a lot happier this morning.

And, now that the floodgates had been opened, there was no stopping it. When they got back in the Impala to head back to the motel and check in again, Gail found a white envelope with her name on it on the back seat of the car. It was a love letter from Cas, in which he reminisced about all of the romantic things the two of them had done together over the years, and promising that they would do many, many more. Gail read the whole letter, twice, pressing it to her lips and then to her chest when she was done. She'd told the guys what it was, but kept the contents to herself.

They checked back in, taking the same two rooms they'd had before. "We might as well go into the city," Dean told them. "Since we have to wait till tomorrow for the funeral, let's go do some drinking."

When they left the motel to get back into the car, Gail started to laugh. There was a white dove sitting on the front hood of the car, walking back and forth. Sam waved his hand to shoo it away, but the bird merely looked at him.

Gail was still smiling. She noticed now that there was a piece of paper attached to its little leg. "I believe he might be here for me," she told the brothers. "Air Mail, from Cas." Sam and Dean might not remember, but she sure did. White doves were very significant to her and Cas.

Dean glared at her. "That thing had better not crap on my Baby, or you're grabbing a pail and a sponge."

"Come on, Dean. Where's your sense of romance?" Gail teased him, trying not to laugh at his expression.

But then, it got even better: the dove fluttered off the hood of the car and flew towards Dean, landing on top of his head. "Oh, look," Gail said, sputtering with laughter. "Cas says hi!"

"Get it off me," Dean said, annoyed.

"Let me get a picture, first," Sam said. He and Gail high-fived smartly.

Eventually, Sam extended his hand to the dove, and it hopped onto his palm. Dean checked his hair suspiciously, but he was mercifully unsoiled.

The bird listed its leg calmly, allowing Sam to remove the piece of paper. He handed it to Gail, who opened it.

"What's it say?" Dean asked her.

"I'm not sure that's any of your business, Birdman," she retorted. Then she poked Sam. "Do me a favour? Send that picture to Cas's phone, and tell him I love him, too."

"Will do," Sam said good-naturedly. "Just as soon as I send it to Frank."

Dean glared at both of them, as they burst out laughing. "Get in the damn car," he ordered the pair. They were still laughing as he peeled out of the parking lot.

The next afternoon, they were walking into the cemetery, having joined the funeral procession en route. No one questioned their presence. There was a large contingent already, and the procession picked up steam as they got closer to the cemetery gates.

The procession was slow, and the music was mournful. But as soon as the coffin was carried into the Delacroix family mausoleum, the band halted for a moment, and then switched to "When The Saints Go Marching In". The mourners all started to sway, and clap their hands. Gail and the brothers self-consciously emulated the mourners. After the song was over, the band all started to file out of the cemetery, along with the second line. But a large group stayed, and they began to talk amongst themselves.

"You know, that's not a bad way to go out," Dean said softly. "I want lots of booze and upbeat music at my funeral."

"Ummm...we already did that, but you weren't there, remember?" Sam said with a half-smile.

"Next time, he will be," Gail said, smiling grimly. Enough time had passed for them to be able to joke about it now. "He can come with me and Cas."

Dean did a double-take, and then he grinned. He could picture all four of them as Angels, sitting in the back row. Maybe Cas could make Dean invisible, and he could eavesdrop on what people were saying about him. That'd be kind of cool.

"So, what do we do now?" Gail asked the men quietly. "It's going to be kind of hard to tell if any family members go missing from here. There's way too many of them to keep track of."

"I have an idea," Dean said suddenly. He walked towards a group of half a dozen people standing to their left. "Hi, how are you?" he said, sticking his hand out. "I'm Jeff Delacroix."

Sam and Gail exchanged glances as the group of people that Dean had introduced himself to looked at him curiously. But then, a woman who looked to be in her early 60s stepped forward to take Dean's hand. "Little Jeffie?" she asked him. "Jacques and Deborah's son?"

Sure. Why not? "Yep," Dean said, shaking her hand. "I was in town on business when I heard about Phillip's passing, so I wanted to come here and pay my respects." He glanced back at Sam and Gail. "I came with my colleagues, here."

"Well, it was good of you to come," the woman said. "Can you come to the house for a bit?"

"Sorry, no," Dean demurred. "I'm only in town until tomorrow, and we've got a conference in about an hour."

"That's too bad," she said. "Still, it was nice of you to come."

Dean moved away from the group, and Sam and Gail trailed along behind him. "Ummm...what are you doing?" Sam asked his brother, under his breath.

"We've gotta get some intel on these guys," Dean answered him quietly, while smiling and waving at other groups of mourners.

"Oh," Sam replied. That was actually pretty smart, he thought. These types of families tended to close ranks sometimes, when it came to outsiders.

Dean introduced himself to a few more people, but then a woman from his age group approached him. "You're not Jeffie Delacroix," she said bluntly. "He and I used to play together, when we were kids."

"Sure we did. I remember you," Dean bluffed.

"What's my name, then?" Michelle challenged him.

As Dean tried to think of what to say next, another woman joined them. "Hey, Michelle," she said. "How are you holding up?"

"Michelle," Dean said, at the same moment.

She looked at Dean skeptically. "If you're Jeffie Delacroix, then tell me: what games did we play?"

Dean smiled mischievously. "My favourite game was 'Doctor'."

There was a beat, and then Michelle returned his smile. "OK, you've got me, there. That was one of my favourites, too. It's a good thing you weren't as handsome back then as you are now, or that game might not have been as innocent."

"Well, you're looking pretty good there yourself, Michelle," he said charmingly.

"Do you want to go someplace for a drink?" Michelle asked him, putting her hand on his arm.

"Uh...we have that conference, Jeff," Sam said, reminding Dean of what he'd told the other woman.

"Can you guys take notes for me?" Dean asked them. "It's not every day I get to have a drink with a childhood friend."

"We're more than friends. We're cousins," Michelle said, putting her arm through Dean's. "Come on, let's go say hi to Rikki, and Auntie Fay."

Dean allowed Michelle to lead him away, giving Sam a look. Sam then looked at Gail. "We might as well go back to the motel," he told her. "We'll see what kind of information he's got for us when he gets back, and then we'll go from there."

"Oh. Okay," Gail said, shrugging.

But they'd waited for a few hours and Dean hadn't come back, nor had he called. Sam was frowning deeply now. He started to pace the floor anxiously, parting the curtains at the window. It was full dark outside now. He'd called Dean's cell phone several times, but his brother hadn't picked up.

"Dammit!" Sam fumed. "I should have found out where they were going! How the hell are we supposed to know if we should be worried, or not?" He gave Gail a grim smile. "In the old days, he might not have come back until the next morning."

Gail looked at him for a moment, and then it dawned on her what Sam meant by that. "You don't think he and Michelle are - " she started to say, and Sam gave her a half-shrug. "It's hard to say," he told their Angel friend.

Gail was dismayed. "Are you saying he would cheat on Nicole?"

Sam's brow was furrowed. "I don't know what their situation is, Gail," he remarked. "You know how he is. He doesn't really talk much about things like that."

But then, something else occurred to Gail. "Wait a minute, Sam!" she exclaimed. "Never mind Nicole; he'd be cheating on ME! I know how ridiculous that sounds, but didn't Cas say that neither one of us can be intimate with anyone else for the duration of our marriage? He'd better not be cheating on me, 'cause I'll kill him!"

"Or, he could be in some kind of danger," Sam speculated.

"He'd better be, or else," Gail fumed, and the two of them smiled briefly at each other.

Suddenly, Gail threw her hands up in frustration at herself. "I know what to do! I'll just call Cas! He can look around and see where Dean is!"

"Heavenly GPS," Sam said, his smile becoming genuine. "Great."

Gail retrieved her cell phone from the nightstand. "I'll call him on this. That way, we can both talk to him." She looked at the phone for a minute with a puzzled expression on her face. Then she thrust it towards Sam. "Here. You do it. I don't know how to put it on Speaker."

Sam took the phone from her, shaking his head slowly. It was funny how an otherwise intelligent woman like Gail had that little blind spot. But then, he supposed that everybody had something. Sam was just as intelligent, but there were some things he wasn't very good at, either.

Cas picked up immediately, and the two wasted no time telling him why they were calling. He sent out The Eye, and he told them that Dean was in a dark, cramped space with a woman, and they were both bound hand and foot. "I'll be right there," Cas told them. A moment later, he was standing in the motel room. "I couldn't tell where it was that they were, though," Cas added, but Sam said, "I'm pretty sure I know where. Let me get a couple of weapons, just in case. But with you here, I'm confident we won't have a problem. Thanks for coming, Cas."

"Of course, Sam. Please feel free to call on me, any time you need my help," Cas replied.

Sam grabbed his gun. "OK, I'm good. Can you take us back to the cemetery, Gail?"

Dean was struggling to free himself, but the ropes were tied too tighly. He looked over at Michelle. She was squirming, trying to do the same.

"You OK?" he asked her.

She glared at him, but it was dark in the crypt, so he couldn't make out the expression on her face. "No, I'm not OK!" she exclaimed. "One second, we were talking at the gravesite, and the next, we woke up here. My head hurts, I'm scared, and I have to pee."

Dean's head hurt too, and he wished she hadn't made that remark about peeing. What the hell? They'd obviously been blindsided by someone, or something. He wondered if she knew where they were. Maybe he'd better not say anything. Most women would be freaked out if they found out that they were tied up in a place with a bunch of dead bodies. He continued to struggle.

"Can you talk to me, to take my mind off how scared I am?" Michelle appealed. "Can you at least tell me your name?"

Dean looked up in surprise, and a moment later, she said, "I knew you weren't Jeff Delacroix. But, my divorce just became final, and you're a good-looking guy. There. There's my confession, in case we don't get out of this."

"Sorry," Dean said to her, still working at his bonds. "I was there with my brother and my..." What was he supposed to call Gail? "...my friend, and we were investigating the deaths in your family."

"So the three of you were undercover?" Michelle asked curiously.

Dean shrugged, even though she couldn't really see him. "Yeah," he replied.

"Well, you could have just been honest with me," Michelle said, annoyed, "but I'm glad somebody's looking into it. That police chief isn't doing anything. He told Uncle Phillip that the cops think it's one of us, killing our own family members to get our hands on the money. But that's ridiculous. We've all got lots of money."

"That might not matter to some people," Dean said, panting from his exertions now. Son of a bitch. He couldn't even loosen the ropes.

"Well, still, I think he's wrong," Michelle insisted. "A lot of us think it's Madame Laveau."

"So you think it's the dead voodoo hairdresser ghost lady?" Dean said.

"Who ARE you?" Michelle asked him, bemused.

Suddenly, the crypt door creaked open, and a man and woman came in. The woman was carrying a kerosene lamp for illumination. She set it down on the floor of the tomb. "Look, Andre," she said to her companion. "Two more Delacroix."

"Who are you?" Dean said angrily. "Why'd you bring us here?"

"Shut up," Andre said, backhanding him across the face.

Michelle started to cry. "What do you want?"

"Justice," the woman said bitterly. "You Delacroix think, because you have money and connections, that you're above the law. You think that you can do anything you want, and get away with it."

"What are you TALKING about?" Michelle asked in a bewildered tone. "I've never broken the law in my life! And HE"S not even a Delacroix."

"That's bull," Andre said bluntly. "I heard him say he was one."

"What's your beef?" Dean asked the couple. "What have you got against them?"

"Oh, so now, it's 'them'," the woman said acidly. "You Delacroix are all alike. I was raped by Roy Delacroix last year. I went to the police, and they did nothing about it. Andre and I waited and waited for him to be arrested, and then finally, we went to see Chief Rousseau. HE told us that Roy had an iron-clad alibi for the date and time, but then, when we left the station, there was a brand-new BMW parked in the Chief's space. And then, we saw an article in the Lifestyles section of the Sunday paper, with pictures of the big, beautiful house that the Rousseaus had just moved into! So, Andre and I had no choice. We had to take it upon ourselves to teach you Delacroix a lesson."

"So YOU killed those people?" Dean asked her, puzzled. "But...Marie Laveau said SHE did it."

Andre laughed derisively. "Oh, yeah? And when did you talk to her?"

"Here, in the cemetery. Last night," Dean said defiantly.

The woman clutched her husband's arm. "You talked to Mama Marie?" she said in a hushed tone.

"No, he didn't, Jocelynne," Andre said, but his tone was gentle as he looked down at his wife. "He's just trying to save his privileged, rich white ass. You're in the Laveau crypt right now," he added, sneering at Dean and Michelle. "My wife and I left your dead kin out front, trying to send a message. But we've given up on that now. Your kind doesn't care about justice, or fairness. So we're just going to keep on eliminating Delacroix until there are none of you left. You can all have a family reunion in Hell."

"Look, I'm really sorry for what happened to you, Jocelynne," Michelle said to the woman. "But if Roy was the one who did that to you, he's dead now. You've gotten your revenge on him. But it's not fair to kill US because of that."

Jocelynne was looking uncertain now, but Andre's jaw was set. "Typical," he said angrily. "You're only interested in fairness when it applies to you. My wife has been scarred for the rest of her life. Is THAT fair?" He reached into his jacket pocket, and Michelle flinched. But instead of a gun, he pulled out a syringe. "This contains a solution which stops the heart from beating. It's quick and painless, unlike my wife's ordeal. So, there. There's your fairness. Roy died a merciful death, and so did the others. So will the two of you. When they find you outside the notorious Madame Laveau's crypt in the morning, her legend will continue, and so will our mission."

"No, please! You can't do this!" Michelle pleaded. She was crying again.

"Oh, but we can," Andre said calmly. "Too bad your millions won't save you now."

"Maybe not, but we will," Cas said. He and Gail and Sam had winked into the crypt. The human women screamed in shock and fear, but Dean smiled. It was about time.

Sam rushed Andre, and Jocelynne rushed Sam. Cas raised his arms, but he didn't want to blast the man and woman in such close quarters, because Sam would get caught up in the blast. So he moved automatically towards Dean, but Dean rolled his eyes and said, "Get HER, Cas." He nodded towards Michelle. So Cas went to the woman instead, placing his hand on her arm and winking her out of the crypt.

Gail joined the fracas, trying to pull Jocelynne away from Sam. But she was in the same boat as Cas had been, reluctant to use her powers because of the close quarters.

Suddenly, Jocelynne cried out. Her husband fell to the floor of the crypt, the syringe protruding from his chest. "Andre!" she shouted. She fell to her knees by his side, clutching at him.

Crap! Sam got down beside her and pulled the needle out of Andre. Then he tried to do CPR on the man, but it was too late. "I'm sorry," he said to Jocelynne.

She screamed again, and then she looked down at the ground, where Sam had put his weapon down in order to pump Andre's chest. Jocelynne dove for the gun, and Gail dove for Sam at the same time. She gave him the push, and he disappeared out of the crypt. Then Gail popped over to Dean, blocking him from Jocelynne's sightline. But the woman didn't aim the gun at them. She put it to her own head, and pulled the trigger. The gunshot sounded like a cannon in the enclosed space. Blood and brain matter splattered on the walls as Gail grabbed Dean and winked him out of the crypt.

It was dark outside, but Cas had waved his hand and moved the clouds away from the moon, so there was enough light for them to see each other. He had freed Michelle from her bonds, and checked Sam for injuries.

As soon as Gail appeared with Dean, Cas waved his hand again, and Dean was freed instantly. Cas approached his friend. "Are you hurt?"

"No," Dean told him.

Gail started to move towards Cas, out of force of habit. She was beginning to shake. Gail had seen a lot of violent things in the past few years. Hell, she had DONE a lot of violent things. But she had never seen anything quite like that before. What the hell had this all been about, anyway?

Michelle was shaking now, too. "Who ARE you guys?" she asked the group, dazed.

Cas realized that Gail was heading straight for him, and he stood there, torn. The ancient rules about contact were maddeningly non-specific, but surely he would not be prohibited from giving her a comforting embrace, would he?

He couldn't stand it anymore. He took her in his arms and held her, murmuring soothing words to her. The hell with the rules.

Dean moved over to Michelle. "Are you OK?" he asked her.

"You know what? I have no idea," she said candidly. "I'm a little freaked out, right now. How did they - " She gestured to the Angels. "How did you - "

Dean grinned. "It's OK; we get that a lot," he told her. Then his smile faded. "Sorry about your family, Michelle. Maybe not so much about Roy, though."

She frowned. "You know, there were rumours about him for years, even at our family reunions. I wouldn't be surprised if he did assault that poor woman. But that didn't make it OK for her and her husband to do what they did, either." Then she put her hand on his arm. "How about that drink now, not-Jeff? I could sure use one."

Dean smiled ruefully, looking at Cas and Gail. "Sorry, Michelle. I'm a married man."

VIGNETTE - SAD EYES

The anonymous call had been made to the police, advising them to go to Marie Laveau's crypt. There, they would find Andre and Jocelynne's dead bodies, and maybe they could put two and two together. Or not. Dean didn't really have the energy to care at the moment.

Michelle had pleaded with them, saying that she was too shaken up right now to be alone and that she wanted to show them her gratitude, so they'd all ended up taking her to her house for a drink.

That was where they were now, and Dean was looking around at everything in amazement. When Michelle had said that she had plenty of money, she hadn't been kidding. She lived in a literal mansion, one of those places with the tall white columns in the front. The kind of house you'd see in the movies, Dean thought. As they all congregated in the sitting room for that drink, Dean took a careful seat on a settee that looked antique to him. The whole house looked like that to Dean, even the glass she gave him to drink out of. How did people live like this? He'd be scared to touch anything in his own house.

"The staff has gone to bed for the night, but I could wake a couple of them, if anything wants something to eat," Michelle told them. As they gaped at her, she smiled. "I realize how that must sound. I'm sorry. Force of habit. Besides, every time I go in the kitchen, I get chased out, again. I'm afraid I've never had to do much for myself. It's just the way I was brought up. But I don't want to talk about me, I want to talk about all of you." She took a healthy swig of her own drink. "Does anyone want to tell me just what the hell happened back there? Who ARE you people? How did we just materialize, from one place to the next? And how did you make the clouds move like that?" she said to Cas.

They explained their status as succinctly as possible, and Michelle sat back in her chair, stunned. "God? Angels?" she said softly. Then she looked at Sam and Dean. "And the two of you hunt monsters?"

Sam nodded. "That's right."

She looked at Dean. "So you really did see Marie Laveau at the cemetery?"

He shrugged. "I guess so. It was funny, though. She told us SHE killed your family members."

"Maybe she just wanted to keep her scary reputation intact," Gail commented.

Sam's brow furrowed. "Maybe," he said, "but I'm wondering if there was more to it than that. You said that Jocelynne called her 'Mama Marie', right?" he said to Michelle. "And how did she and Andre get into that crypt in the first place? Maybe they were related, somehow."

Michelle sighed. "The whole thing just sickens me," she stated. "So many unnecessary deaths. If Roy did what she said he did, he should have gone to jail. But Jocelynne was likely right; he probably did bribe his way out of any criminal charges. It wouldn't be the first time a rich man did that, whether he was from our family, or not." She frowned. "What Jocelynne and her husband did wasn't right, either, but I feel terrible that she didn't get the justice that she probably deserved. So what's the moral of the story, here? That if you're rich and connected, you can just do any rotten thing you feel like doing and get away with it? No. That's unacceptable to me. Those of us who are fortunate enough to be able to live like this can do better than that. We SHOULD do better than that." Michelle paused, thinking. Then she snapped her fingers. "I know! I'm going to take some of my Delacroix money and use it to open up a Rape Crisis Centre in Jocelynne's name. That's what I'm going to do."

Cas nodded approvingly. "I think that's a wonderful idea," he told her. "That way, some good can come out of this whole thing."

They visited for a short while longer, and then it was time to go. As Dean prepared to leave, Michelle put her hand on her arm. "Thank you for an exciting adventure," she said to him. "Shocking and terrifying, but exciting." She smiled. "It's too bad you're married, not-Jeff. Come back and see me sometime, if that situation ever changes." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and then the quartet left her home.

After a few hours' sleep for the brothers, Sam and Dean and Gail headed back home to Kansas. Cas had gone back up to Heaven, of course. After the comforting hug he had given her at the cemetery, Cas and Gail had stayed apart physically. They hadn't even sat next to each other at Michelle's house, because the urge to take Gail's hand was so overwhelming for Cas by now that he didn't think he could have restrained himself for much longer. It had been agony not being able to kiss her goodbye. She'd thanked him for the love notes, but she'd seemed very sad when she'd said it. Of course she was sad. So was he.

As the three of them made their silent drive back to Kansas, Gail was actually beyond sad now. She was despondent. What had the point of all of that been? They'd killed a ghost with a sketchy reputation, Gail's evil brother had used her and tried to kill her, her witch mother now had even more of a vendetta against her, a bunch of people had died for no apparent reason, and Gail couldn't even sit beside the man she loved any more. When had her life become so ridiculous? Or had it always been this ridiculous, but she'd been too busy or too oblivious to notice?

Who were the good guys, and who were the bad guys? The lines were becoming more and more blurred these days, or so it felt to her. Jocelynne and Andre had killed innocent people, but if Roy Delacroix had raped her and the police chief had held off from bringing Roy to justice because of a big payoff, that made them worse, didn't it? Rowena had done some terrible things to Gail and her family, but some terrible things had been done to Rowena, too, over the years. One could argue that Crowley was worse than Rowena, but that Vincent was worse than both of them.

Dean and Michelle had filled Gail, Sam, and Cas in on Jocelynne's story, and it was preying on Gail's mind now. Roy had allegedly raped Jocelynne, and although he was dead now, he had basically gotten away with it. But because of what Roy had done, other, innocent members of his family had been killed, and now, Jocelynne and Andre were dead, too. And Chief Rousseau had a new car, and a lovely new home.

Lucifer had raped Patricia, and although he was dead now, he too had gotten away with it. Now, Patricia had been scarred for the rest of her existence. The last time they had seen her, she had been bitter and spiteful, and crazier than ever. And, because of what Lucifer had done to Patricia, she had instituted a totalitarian regime in Heaven, Scott was dead, Cas had been driven nearly out of his mind, Dr. Roarke was now out there somewhere, planning to be Mengele to Benoit's Hitler, and Cas and Gail had been forced to get a divorce.

Cause and effect. Ripples in a pond. Sometimes, it just took one act, big or small, to set off a chain reaction that would have far-reaching consequences. Gail kept seeing Jocelynne's anguished face when she'd realized that her husband was dead, and Gail couldn't get the image of the woman subsequently shooting herself in the head out of her mind. Gail kept flashing back to the day that she too had killed herself, mourning over Cas's dead body. She was having a hard time making the distinction between the two right now. OK, there was one distinction. Lucifer was dead. Roy Delacroix was dead. But, Raguel was still alive. So were Vincent and Crowley, as Rowena had so aptly pointed out. Shouldn't they be doing something about that?

But Gail was just so tired now. Tired of being victimized, and tired of having to fight back because of it. Vincent. Lucifer. Crowley. Raguel. It never ended. It never, ever ended. How did Sam and Dean do it? How could they get on that computer, actively search out monsters, and then get in this car and drive to meet them, head-on? How did they stay motivated?

Well, they could have it. Gail was done. The next time they went out on a case, it would be without her. When had her life become so violent? Why couldn't she just have a nice, normal existence? Gail looked at the Winchesters now. Dean was driving, of course, listening to his music and stifling the occasional yawn behind his hand. Sam was looking out the window, checking his cell phone from time to time, and occasionally, he would glance back at Gail. She contemplated talking to him about the way she felt, but in the end, she decided against it. It would be just like Sam to want to stay at home and babysit her, and Gail didn't want that. The world needed Sam and Dean Winchester, doing what they did. People like Michelle needed saving. Just as the evil acts that were committed left ripples, so did the good that people like Sam and Dean did. They'd helped save Michelle, and now she was going to open a Rape Crisis Centre, to help victims like Jocelynne. Cause and effect.

Gail thought about calling Cas in her head, and telling him how down she was feeling. But all that would accomplish would be to make him feel guilty, even though none of this was his fault. Then he would apologize, which would make her feel even worse, because he had nothing to apologize for, not in this situation. And then, he would want to come down and comfort her, and she would want him to. Maybe she should just let him. What would happen? Would a lightning bolt come down from the sky and blow them off the planet, if they had the temerity to kiss? Would a fiery pit open up and swallow them whole if they dared to do so much as hold hands? Little children held hands all the time. It was the sweetest, most innocent thing in the world. When Cas held Gail's hand, she could feel the love coming from him. When she put her hand in his and he looked down at her so affectionately, she felt as if nothing bad could ever happen to her. And even though that had never actually been the case, it was the connection she felt between them that was the important part. But from everything she'd been given to understand, for some strange, stupid-ass reason, if she and Cas were to link hands right now, they would be forfeiting their right to remarry in the future. What kind of sense did that even make?

Was it so important for them to remarry, then? They had lived together for years before marrying, in the first place; first, when they'd been chaste, and then later, when they had not. So what if they didn't have a formal ceremony? Did Gail care? But even if she didn't, the problem was, she knew that Cas did. Because that was the way that he was. Marriage as a sacrament was very important to him. There was nothing he liked better than being husband and wife.

Then, unbidden, the really bad thought popped into her head: Did she even WANT to be married to Cas anymore? The thought was sudden, and it shocked Gail to her core. But deep down, if she was being honest with herself, she had to give the notion a moment's thought. It seemed crazy on the surface. She loved Cas more than anything. She couldn't imagine her life without him. Look at her right now, practically suicidal because she hadn't seen him in a few hours. Yet here she was, wondering if they should even be married.

It must be the PTSD and her depression talking now, but Gail was just sick to death of...well, death. And violence, and blood, and pain, and all of it. But maybe before she went and blamed Cas for all of that, she should take a look at her own life, and her own family. Apparently, violence, blood and death had been her legacy, from birth. Long before Cas had come along, Gail's route had seemingly already been mapped out for her. And hiding in her room in that house in Denver with her face in a book was never going to stop it, any more than hiding at the bunker was going to change her life now.

"Dean, can you pull over, please?" Gail asked him suddenly. He glanced back at the back seat with a startled expression, almost as if he'd forgotten that she was there.

"What? Why? We're not home yet," Dean said to her.

"I know; I just want to go for a walk," she responded. "You know how I like the winter. I just want to get some fresh air, and a bit of exercise. I'll walk around town for a bit, and then just pop home, OK?"

Dean pulled the car over, coming to a slow stop. He and Sam both turned around in their seats to look at her. "Are you OK, Gail?" Sam asked her, looking concerned. "You've been really quiet, for the whole ride. If you were a human, I'd think you had dozed off."

"Yeah, I'm OK, I just want to go for a walk," Gail insisted. "We're just a few miles from home now, right? Besides, let's face it; it wouldn't matter if I was in Outer Mongolia, I could actually be back at the bunker faster than you guys."

Dean was frowning. "Will you be OK by yourself?"

She gave him a look. "Says the guy who was tied up and held captive last night," she said tartly.

"Touche," Sam said lightly. "Look, Gail, we know you can take care of yourself. You just seem kind of - "

" - I am," she interrupted him. "That's why I want to go for a walk. But I have my blade on me, and I could call on Cas any time, if I needed to."

The brothers looked at each other. They guessed that was true. She didn't look like she was in any kind of mood for a debate, and Dean just wanted to get home. So he let her out of the car as she'd requested, and they drove away.

The first time Gail saw Lucifer, he was leaning against the wall in a downtown alleyway, smirking at her. It was a good thing he was in the alley, too, because the instant that Gail saw him, she took her blade out of her pocket and went chasing after him. But as soon as she was in the alley, he disappeared. She gave her head a shake, putting her blade back in her pocket before anybody saw her with it. That must have just been a figment of her imagination, because she'd been thinking about him just recently.

The next time she saw him, he was stepping out of a restaurant. But he had light blonde hair, and he was half a foot shorter than he used to be. No, wait; unless that was Lucifer in a different vessel, it wasn't him. She reached into her pocket, contemplating drawing her blade, but then she looked more closely at his face. It wasn't Lucifer at all, just some short, blonde guy. What the hell?

She'd been thinking about where they were supposed to go from here, and about the younger generation of humans and Angels in their family. If Gail just up and quit, which she had been seriously thinking about doing, what would become of them? What if Vincent decided to visit Frank's house one day? What if Raguel raided Heaven's weapons room again? What if either one of them, or Ammit, got their hands on those Books? Rowena had the codices, and Crowley had the codex for them. What could those little scraps of paper do to them all? If Gail gave up fighting now, were the bad guys just going to run roughshod over all of them? But, was that really Gail's problem? Why should it be? Who was she, anyway, except some poor woman who happened to be born into the wrong damn family?

The next time she saw Lucifer, she knew for sure that it wasn't really him. It was just her stressed-out mind, seeing him everywhere. Now, he was getting out of a taxi, and he was dressed like a woman. He looked at her, and she stared back at him. It was so weird. Under other circumstances, she would have found it really funny. Wait. This was a shorter Asian woman, not Lucifer. But she'd had Lucifer's face.

"Satan killed me," Lucifer/Linda said to Gail. "And we lost Dean in that whole transaction too, didn't we?" Then her face morphed into Lucifer's again. "Raguel killed Cas, and Vincent blew up all those kids. Remember Ricky? Crowley's flunkies killed Frank, back in the day. How many more are you willing to lose? Give it up, Gail. Hang up your blade. Nobody would blame you. You're just a teeny-tiny, itsy-bitsy little slip of a girl, and you've gotten relatively lucky so far. But what are you gonna do when Vincent decides he's tired of pussyfooting around? Or when Raguel decides he's tired of waiting, and decides to take what he thinks is rightfully his? How did Jason really get to Purgatory, Gail?"

The short Asian woman walked on down the street, and Gail stopped short for a moment. How DID Jason get to Purgatory? As far as she could remember, they'd never found out why he'd actually been in Purgatory, had they? In their delusion about Cas having been a Demon, their minds had manufactured a deal in which Jason had requested a transfer to Purgatory in exchange for helping Cas procure a couple of ingredients for the spell to cure him. But none of that had ever happened. One minute, Jason had been in Heaven's jail, and the next, he'd been in Purgatory, becoming a vampire. But, how had he gotten there? Vision Lucifer was apparently trying to tell her that there was some sort of a connection between Jason and Raguel. But Jason was dead now, so what could it matter?

Lucifer/Linda had been right about everything else, though. How much longer could they continue to get lucky? When you poked a hornet's nest with a stick, it might take a few seconds, but eventually, you were going to get stung. Again, and again, and again.

But, on the other hand, what were she and Cas supposed to do? Sit up there in Heaven in their metaphorical ivory tower, and let their human friends and family fend for themselves? What the hell kind of person would do something like that? The answer to that was pretty clear: any given member of Gail's evil family, apparently. They were all selfish, only caring about their own needs and wants. But, not Gail. No. Not her. Gail was who she was in spite of her family, not because of them. How could she ever live with herself if she just let the bad guys do whatever they wanted? Roy Delacroix. Vincent. Raguel. Crowley. Enough, already. Enough.

She ducked into the next alleyway, and popped herself to the bunker.

The next night, Sam and Dean were going to the Hunters' bar to have a few drinks, play pool, and unwind. Did Gail want to come?

She cocked an eyebrow at Dean. "Do you really want the old ball and chain to come along on your boys' night out, or are you guys just being polite?"

He grinned. "I'm just being polite. Although, it might be worth it, just to see the looks on some of those guys' faces when I introduce you as my wife."

She smiled back. "I wonder what they would think."

"They would think he made a crossroads deal, 'cause you're way out of his league," Sam said, grinning.

Gail laughed delightedly. "Ooooh! Want some aloe for that burn, hubby?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Just for that, you're buying," he said to Sam. "Don't wait up," he added, talking to Gail. And then, they were gone.

She waited a few minutes, and then she called Frank. "Do you think you could come over, and hang with me for a bit?" Gail asked her brother.

"I was wondering how long it was gonna take," he said, affably enough.

"Huh? Why? What do you mean?" she asked him, puzzled.

"Come on, kiddo," he said. "You and God are strictly hands-off at the moment, and Sam and Dean are either on the road, or at the local watering hole. You're lonely and bored, and you don't know what to do with yourself. Am I in the ballpark?"

"You are, and you're not," she said vaguely. "I want to have a talk, just the two of us. Will you come? Please?"

"Sure, kiddo," Frank said, and his tone was more subdued now. He could hear a certain quality in her voice. "Jody and Rob are working out downstairs, and Angela's asleep. I wasn't doing anything, anyway. Do you want to come here?"

"No. I want to talk to you alone, just the two of us," she replied. "I'll pop over and get you, but I want to talk here, in private," Gail told him. "OK?"

"Yeah. OK," he agreed. Now Frank was really curious. When was the last time that she had initiated a brother-sister chat, just the two of them? He couldn't remember. "Just give me a minute to tell Jody," he said.

A few minutes later, Frank and Gail were sitting at the bunker's library table, with a couple of liquor bottles in-between them. "Geez, you sure drink a lot, for an Angel," her brother commented.

"Hey, if you had my life, you'd drink, too," she shot back.

"OK, spill. What's the matter?" Frank asked her, taking a sip of his own drink.

"Nothing," she replied. "Everything."

"Oh, well, as long as you're making sense..." he said, rolling his eyes. "Didn't you like New Orleans? At least you got to see some of it this time, and be part of the action. It beats all those times you had to sit in those motel rooms, just waiting for me to come back."

Gail frowned. "You know, I'm not so sure it does." She took a sip of her drink, then said, "Do you ever wonder what your life would be like now, if your dad hadn't been a Hunter?"

"I used to," Frank answered her. "I used to wonder about that just about every day of my life. But I don't, now. Not anymore. This is who I turned out to be, Gail."

"If Jody asked you to give up Hunting, would you?" she asked him bluntly.

"Wow," he said. "I usually get to have at least one drink before we get this real. OK, bottom line? Yes. Yes, I would. In a heartbeat. Hunting is what I do, but being Jody's husband and Rob and Angela's dad is who I am."

Gail thought about that for a minute. "But, what would happen if you quit?" she persisted. "What about all the monsters out there, and the people who need saving? What about them?"

"What are you getting at, Gail?" her brother asked her, his eyes narrowing.

"I'm sick of fighting," she told him. "I don't know if I want to do it anymore."

"Well, you'd better woman up, kiddo," Frank said, frowning.

"What do you mean?" she asked him angrily. "You just said - "

"It's different for you," he said instantly. "You're God's wife. God's wife. That's like being First Lady of the Universe. You don't get to quit."

"In case you missed it, I'm Dean Winchester's wife at the moment," she said pointedly. "Not God's. And last I looked, I was supposed to be able to have a say in my own life. I certainly didn't get a say about this stupid divorce, did I?"

"So, what? Did you call me over here so you could be a whiny crybaby?" he said sardonically.

"Yeah, pretty much," she said, nodding.

They smiled at each other and raised their glasses in a silent toast. After a moment, Frank said, "How is it for you here? Is it weird?"

She shrugged. "Not really. It's kind of like it was at first, when I was a human. Or when Cas and I were separated, and he went to Canada."

He eyed her steadily. "Are you finally ready to tell me what that was all about?"

Aw, geez, as her current husband might say. Why had she brought that up? She didn't want to talk about that. Or, did she? Gail suddenly realized that she had never talked to anyone about that dark period in her life. Well, no one except for Cas, and he had been the perceived offender. And imaginary or not, it had taken one hell of an emotional toll on her, one she had never really recovered from. The quest to eradicate Lucifer had taken precedence over everything at that stage in their lives, and they hadn't found out until deep into their missions that the entire Demon debacle had been one big lie, perpetrated by Metatron. But that didn't mean that the trauma it had caused just magically went away. Maybe that was why she had been seeing Lucifer everywhere that she had gone on her walk today. His appearance had represented a great big elephant, and even though this particular elephant had left the building some time ago, the giant piles of dung it had left behind had never been cleaned up, only shoveled to one side. If she wasn't taking this whole elephant metaphor thing too far, that was.

She opened her mouth to change the subject, but instead, what came out was a fairly candid but highly abridged version of the real story about the Demon delusion.

Frank listened intently, taking a pull on his drink every now and then, and when Gail finished, taking a drink of her own, he regarded her silently for a moment. And then, he threw his head back and laughed.

Gail was astonished. Out of all the possible reactions she had been anticipating, this one hadn't even made the list. "What's so funny?" she said angrily.

"I'm sorry, but..." Frank let go of a few more guffaws, and then he wiped his eyes with his hands and looked at his sister. "This is Cas we're talking about, right?" he said, slowly composing himself. "The guy who turns into an amorphous pile of goo anytime anybody even mentions your name? The guy who can't wait to change my daughter's toxic-waste diapers, because he thinks it's fun? The same guy who cried non-stop for the entire week before his wedding to you? THAT guy?"

"I know, it sounds ridiculous now, but it wasn't at the time, I can assure you," she said irritably, even though what Frank was saying was making her smile faintly now, too.

"So, you kicked him to the curb because you guys thought he was a Demon who had abused you?" Frank said, wrinkling his forehead as if trying to work through an extremely hard math problem. He wasn't laughing any more. He recognized that look on his sister's face.

"Yeah, that's pretty much it, Frank," Gail said, sighing. "That's why we were separated. But he wasn't, and he didn't."

"Good deal," he said grimly, taking another drink, "because if he was, and if he did, I'd have to kill him." Then, Frank's face relaxed. "Wow. That must have been hard on you. On both of you."

"It was, and I don't think I ever completely got over it, even when I found out it was a lie," she said quietly. "And I'm sure Cas didn't, either. That's probably why he was so insecure about us getting a divorce. He kept saying stuff about being worried that I wouldn't marry him again, when the six months was up."

"You're gonna, though, right?" Frank asked her anxiously, and she looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Hey, there are perks to having God as your brother-in-law," he said lightly. "Besides, Angela's probably gonna have to be in diapers for a while, still." But Gail kept staring at him, and Frank sighed. "All right, kiddo. OK. You're gonna make me say it, aren't you? Fine. I love the guy. I've never seen you happier than when you're with him, and I could never hope for a guy who treats you better than he does. That's why I laughed. The idea of Cas doing anything bad to you is just so beyond belief that it's funny. If you don't marry him again, it'll be the stupidest decision you ever made."

"Wow. If you love him so much, maybe YOU should marry him," Gail said, but she was smiling now. "Of course I'm going to marry him again. I may get a little crazy sometimes, but I'm not stupid."

The siblings smiled at each other for another moment, and then Frank said, "But you're letting a great opportunity go by, right now. You know that, huh? You're Dean Winchester's wife. Why aren't you messing with him more?"

They both laughed, and then they started to list ways that Gail could drive Dean nuts. After a few more minutes of quip-trading, Frank's expression grew serious again. "Don't be sad, Gail," he told his sister, "and even if you are, don't hide from life. When we were kids, I used to pass by your room and see you reading your books and talking to your stuffed animals, and I used to wonder what your life would be like when you got older. Would you ever make any friends? Would you ever meet a guy? And then, when we were on the run and you were cooped up in those motel rooms with me, I wondered the same things. But, look at you now. You've got friends up the wazoo, both humans and Angels, and a guy who loves you so much he'd cut off his right arm to be with you. You had seven guys lined up to marry you on New Year's Eve, and it's because they all love you. Hey, marriage-wise, you're two-thirds of the way to being J-Lo. Although you've got a long way to go until you reach Elizabeth Taylor territory, so maybe you should just quit after you marry Cas again."

Gail laughed softly, saluting him with her glass.

Then Frank's expression grew serious once more. "OK, I'd better get home. Jody's perfectly healthy now, but she gets tired a little easier than she used to, and working out sometimes gives her a headache. So, let me bottom-line this for you: I love you, kiddo. I always did, even when you were that little hermit crab, hiding away in your room. But, I also respect the shit out of you now, and that's huge. And so does everybody else, just so you know. Especially Cas. I can see it in his face, every time he looks at you. You're his equal now. To tell you the truth, I kind of wondered about you guys, at first. I thought he was too Alpha for you, and you might be too submissive for him. But you surprised the hell out of me, kiddo. Somewhere in there was a really badass woman, looking to bust out. Marry him again, or don't; that's completely up to you. I'm your brother, so I'll support you either way. But I'll tell you something, Gail: he's who you need. He complements you and supports you, and he makes you happy. OK. End of lecture." He drained his drink and stood from his chair. "And now, as the baseball player John Kruk said after he had one of his testicles removed, I'm gonna take my ball and go home. Come here and give me a hug, and then zap me home. I love Angel Uber. I never have to worry about drinking and driving."

Gail laughed again, shaking her head. Frank. Hanging with him had been just what she'd needed right now, in a number of ways. There was nobody else who could make her laugh, and cry, and kick her in the pants with love any better than her brother could.

They hugged, and Gail stretched up to give him a loud, smacking kiss on the cheek. She winked him home, and then she came back to the bunker. Then she called Cas on their frequency, asking him if they could talk.


	4. Someone To Watch Over Me

Chapter 4 - Someone To Watch Over Me

It was the second week of March now, and things in Gail's life had been a little on the quiet side. She was slowly coming out of her depression, because she could see a faint light at the end of the tunnel now. She had decided that she was going to look at the remainder of the six months as a sort of sabbatical, a calm before the storm. Once she and Cas were back together, she was going to suggest that they take the fight to the Unholy trio of Vincent, Raguel and Ammit, and beat them to the Books. She had made that resolve before, she knew, but this annulment had temporarily taken the wind out of her sails. She couldn't be that woman without Cas. She simply couldn't do it. She needed him too much.

She and Cas had lengthy, daily conversations in their heads now, Sam and Dean were in and out of the bunker, and Frank had taken Rob out on a Hunt with the Winchesters once, just to give the young man some experience in the field. Rob had killed a vampire all by himself, and even though he'd had the protection of three extremely experienced Hunters behind him, Frank advised Gail proudly that Rob had been very brave. Rob's mother was going to take him out next, Gail's brother had told her. Jody was getting a little restless, just hanging around the house all the time.

Gail had been satisfied with staying around town, hearing about the men's' exploits when they came home. She'd become a bit of a homebody, lounging around in the living room area, reading and watching movies. She'd also begun to think about how they were going to find Vincent. To her, he was the priority. If he had struck up a deal with Raguel and Ammit to partner in finding those Books, it was Vincent who would lead them to the others, she was sure. He'd said that he was going back to the Caribbean, but that didn't exactly narrow it down. How could they find out where he'd gone?

"Hello, my love," Cas's voice said in her head. "How are you?"

"I'm OK, Cas," she replied with a warm smile. "How are you, sweetie?"

"She's got that goofy-looking smile on her face again," Dean said to Sam. The brothers were home from their latest case, and the three of them had been about to sit down and find a movie to watch. "I'll betcha she's talking to her boyfriend. You know, I think it's still cheating if he's in her head, isn't it?"

Gail grinned. "Cas says hi, and he says it's not."

"Sam and Dean are there right now?" Cas said eagerly. "Good. I have something I need to talk to them about."

An instant later, Cas popped into the living room. Sam had been coming in from the library area with a beer in one hand and a large bowl of popcorn in the other, and Cas's sudden appearance made him upend the bowl. Popcorn went flying, and Dean extended his arm and neatly caught a handful. "Wuss," he teased Sam, cramming the popcorn into his mouth and eating it.

"I'm not as used to you just suddenly appearing here as I used to be," Sam said to Cas. "Long time, no see, Cas."

"That's because I haven't been here," Cas stated, and Dean nudged him. "Captain Obvious rides again," Dean said happily. "Hey, we were just about to watch a movie. Why don't you stick around?"

Cas looked down at Gail, who was curled up in one corner of the couch, under a blanket. "I would love to," Cas said wistfully, and she frowned. Her, too. But there was no way he was going to sit beside her on that couch and share a blanket with her. No way. It was much too risky.

"I have a case for you," Cas went on. He perched on the opposite end of the couch as Sam stooped to pick up the errant pieces of popcorn off the floor. "You do?" he said to Cas. "What's up?"

"Aurielle called me on my cell phone," Cas told them, and Gail's eyebrows rose. Cas glanced at her, and then at the brothers. "She told me that her friend Valerie is being haunted by her ex-husband's spirit."

Gail's forehead wrinkled. "After all this time? Didn't he kill himself a few years ago?"

"Yes, I thought that was strange, too," Cas replied. "Is that common?"

"It's hard to say," Sam said, placing the bowl on the coffee table. "Didn't you say he abused her, when they were married?"

Cas was startled by Sam's question, and he was also surprised that Sam remembered that fact. "Yes, he did, Sam," he said earnestly. "But apparently, he's only been appearing to her fairly recently."

The Winchesters looked at each other. "When you say 'appearing', exactly what do you mean, Cas?" Dean asked, curious. "Is he pissed off at her, or something?"

"I think so, Dean," Cas answered.

"Has anything changed recently? Like, has Valerie met another guy, maybe?" Sam inquired.

"Oh. Well, she is dating her ex-husband's brother," Cas remarked.

"Yahtzee," Dean said, bemused. "Next time, maybe lead off with that, Cas. So, the jerk's mad. She's dating his brother, and he's not happy about it. Well, he might have been a dick, but that's understandable, right?"

"Oh, hey, I forgot to tell you, I'm dating Nicole, now," Sam wisecracked, and Dean gave his brother a look.

"In any event, Aurielle was concerned for Valerie," Cas told them. "She spoke to Richard about it, and he advised her that you might be able to help. So, Aurielle called me, to see if I would talk to you. Do you think you might be able to go to Vancouver with me, and talk to Valerie?"

"Yeah, that'd be great," Dean enthused. "Then I could work out a side trip, to see Nicole."

Cas looked sharply at his friend. "Just be sure that you do not have any physical contact with her," he said sternly. He looked at Sam. "Maybe you should go along, as a chaperone."

"Oh, yeah? Then who's gonna chaperone you and my wife?" Dean said, cocking an eyebrow at Cas.

Cas sighed. "We'll work all of that out, when the time comes. But for now, I will call Aurielle and tell her we'll be there in the morning." He looked down at Gail again. She looked so cute, snuggled up underneath the blanket with only her head peeking out. What he wouldn't give to get underneath that blanket, cuddling her to him. They could snuggle together, and watch the movie with their friends. What would be the harm in that?

But it was a slippery slope. A cuddle led to a snuggle, which would lead to a caress, and then a kiss. He frowned.

"It's OK, sweetie. You'd better go, before I make room for you underneath this blanket," Gail said glumly.

"I'll be back in the morning," Cas said in a clipped tone. Then, he disappeared.

The next morning, the four of them were sitting in a small receiving room at the women's shelter, waiting for Aurielle to bring Valerie in. Cas had vouched for Sam and Dean, of course, but they had received a lot of curious looks from both the staff and the residents. A number of them recognized Cas, smiling and waving at him. But it was unusual for them to see strange men there, and inevitably, some of the women were leery of their presence, while others were merely intrigued.

Gail had briefly contemplated staying behind at the bunker, but she ended up coming along, of course. It was hard enough being apart from Cas without sitting in the bunker feeling left out of a trip to Canada with all three of them. Besides, she thought it couldn't hurt to find out some more about vengeful spirits, which was what the brothers were convinced that Valerie's husband was.

Cas stood when Valerie and Aurielle entered the room, and after a beat, so did Sam and Dean. The women all smiled at that.

Aurielle provided the introductions, and she and Valerie sat down across from the group. "Before we start, I just wanted to remind everyone that my shelter name is Aurora," Aurielle said pleasantly. "I know that you all know my former Angel name, but only Valerie here and Richard know my true identity. As far as anyone else is concerned, I have always been a human, and my name is Aurora."

They all nodded in agreement, and then Sam said, "So, Valerie? Can you tell us what's going on?"

Valerie sighed. "I guess you know my story, based on the looks on your faces. I can always tell. You've got that really interesting mix of sympathy and disgust in your eyes."

"We don't judge," Dean said quickly. "We're just here to get the facts, so we can try and help you."

She looked at him for a moment, and then she said, "OK. OK. So, a few months ago, Keith started showing up at my house. At first, I'd just catch glimpses of him, and I thought it was just my imagination, because I had a bit of a guilty conscience about dating his brother. But then I told myself that I'm a grown woman, and Keith abused the crap out of me and then killed himself, and his brother Rodney was always so nice to me throughout. So I said: screw it. Rodney's divorce became final last year, and we're not doing anything wrong. But then, Keith started smashing things in my house, and then he started talking to me. He was mad because I was seeing Rod, of course, and he started asking me about the note he'd left me right before he killed himself. I asked him why the hell he was asking me about that now, and he picked up a handful of books, threw them across the room, and then disappeared." Valerie laughed mirthlessly. "Have you ever heard of an abusive husband becoming a ghost so he could keep on abusing his wife?" Then she started to cry, and she took some wadded-up tissues from her sweater pocket and dabbed her eyes with them. "I mean, who am I supposed to call? The police? Ghostbusters?" Valerie said, sniffling.

"Us," Dean said. "You call us. We'll take care of this guy."

"I'm curious," Sam said, thoughtful. "Did he say why he was so upset about your seeing his brother, or anything else about the note? Not to seem insensitive, but, was it a suicide note?"

Valerie shrugged. "I assume so, but to tell you the truth, I never read it. I gave it to Rodney, and told him to burn it."

"You did?" Cas said, puzzled. "Why?"

Valerie gazed at him. "Why do you think, Cas? I told you what Keith was like. I figured it would just be the same crap he used to lay on me when we were together. The same emotional abuse. Blaming me for his suicide. Or, making me feel responsible for the fact that he used to beat the crap out of me."

The men all winced, and Aurielle put her hand on top of Valerie's and gave it a squeeze. "I'm sorry," Valerie said to them. "We encourage honest talk here at the shelter. I want you to understand what he was like. Keith used to blame me for everything. Nothing was ever his fault, or his responsibility. I was sure that note was just another way of making me feel like crap. So I wanted nothing to do with it. As it was, I was dealing with a lot of conflicting emotions about his suicide."

"If you're OK with it, we'll come over to your place tonight," Dean said to her. "We'll see if we can get him to show up, and tell us what his problem is. Do you have anything of his still in the house?"

Valerie laughed derisively. "Oh, hell, no. As soon as he left, I made damn sure that every trace of him was gone. Why? Why do you ask?"

"Because usually, the person's spirit is tethered to an object, like a possession of theirs that has meaning to them," Sam told her.

"Hmmmm," Valerie mused, shaking her head. "I honestly can't think of anything."

"Did Rodney burn the note?" Gail piped up. Everyone looked at her, and she gave them a half-shrug.

"Of course he did. He must have," Valerie said, but a note of doubt was creeping into her voice now. "That was years ago."

Sam and Dean exchanged glances. Could be ol' Rodney was holding out. "I think we should talk to Rodney before we come to your house tonight, just to get some background," Sam told her. "Do you mind giving us his work address?"

"What about the two of you?" Valerie asked Cas and Gail, jotting down the address.

"I'd love to have a visit with the both of you," Aurielle said to the couple. "You can remain here, if you wish."

"I'll tell you what," Cas said. "I'll take Sam and Dean over to Rodney's office. If you could let him know that they're coming, Valerie, that would be great. Then, I'll be right back."

The men left the room a few minutes later, and Valerie excused herself to call Rodney, to give him the heads-up.

Aurielle sat there looking at Gail, and her gaze was steady. "What's going on with you and Castiel?" she asked Gail.

"Why? What do you mean?" Gail answered evasively.

"I know that something is wrong," the former Angel remarked. "You weren't holding hands. You weren't even sitting together. And, I notice that you have a ring on your finger, but your engagement ring is missing. What's going on, Gail?"

Gail sighed. "Patricia nullified our marriage, when she was God. So we're technically divorced right now, and I'm technically married to Dean. This is his mother's ring."

Aurielle nodded. "The ancient annulment ritual. I'm actually surprised that law is still in effect. It's very outdated."

Gail made a face. "I agree. Believe me, if I'd known about it, the law would have been rewritten already. I asked the board to take a look at it, but I'm not sitting on the board right now, because I thought it would be a conflict of interest. Besides, I have to live at Dean's place, until the six months is up."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Aurielle said sincerely. "That probably explains why Castiel's been here a little bit more often lately, and why his donations have increased." She smiled. "He was always very generous, but recently, we've been able to channel some of the money he's brought us to other shelters, as well."

Gail was touched. So that was how Cas had been filling his days. He had told her that things had been running like clockwork in Heaven, and that the days were long, when you had all 24 hours to work with. She ought to know, right? Now, she felt a little ashamed of herself. She had been binge-watching Netflix while Cas had been down here, making the world a better place.

Valerie came back into the room. "They're starting the sharing hour now," she said. "Do you ladies want to come?"

"You know what? I think I would, if you don't mind," Gail said.

Rodney shook hands with the Winchester brothers, asked them to close his office door behind them, and invited them to take a seat. Then he picked up the phone and asked his secretary to hold his calls.

He smiled pleasantly at Sam and Dean, but inside, his guts were churning. What the hell was wrong with Keith, anyway? Why couldn't he just rest in peace?

"So, what are you, some kind of practitioners of the occult, or something?" Rodney asked them now.

Dean smirked. "Not exactly. Just think of us as...facilitators. Basically, we help spirits to move on."

"There's got to be a reason your brother is manifesting now, years after his death," Sam said carefully. "We're sorry for your loss, by the way."

"Thanks, but don't be," Rodney said bluntly. "My brother was an ass, to put it mildly. If I'd known how badly he was treating Valerie, I might have killed him myself."

Dean nodded in understanding. This was his kind of guy. "When Keith appeared in Valerie's house, he asked her about his suicide note," he said to the man. "Do you have any idea why he'd be asking about that now?"

"No. No idea," Rodney lied. "He's probably just trying to control her from beyond the grave. That wouldn't surprise me. When the two of them were together, he was really possessive of her, and even when she finally had the good sense to divorce him, he couldn't let go. Are you guys gonna be able to help us?"

"We're going to try," Sam assured him.

The men talked for a few more minutes, but Rodney had nothing more to offer in the way of information, so Sam and Dean left his office and went down to the street. They'd seen a coffee shop across the street from Rodney's office building, and they headed there now.

"So what do you think of Rod?" Dean asked his brother.

Sam's brow was furrowed. "I don't know, Dean. He said all the right things, but I kind of felt like he was hiding something."

"Yeah. Me, too," Dean said. "Let's get some coffee and a piece of that pie they're advertising in the window, and then we'll call Cas and Gail."

Rodney sat back in his chair, frowning. That stupid note. He should have known. He should have known that was gonna come back and bite him in the ass.

He hadn't burned Keith's note. It was in-between the pages of one of the books on the bottom shelf of the bookshelf in his living room, intact. When Valerie had given it to Keith's brother and asked him to burn it, he had intended to respect her wishes. Really, he had. But curiosity had gotten the better of him, and he had opened the envelope and read the letter. Surprisingly, Keith had written a very eloquent letter of apology to his ex-wife. He'd said that he was very, very sorry for the man he'd been when they'd been together, and for everything he had ever done to her. The guilt he felt for his actions had become so all-encompassing that he could no longer live with himself. But he was not blaming her for any of it, not any more. He had finally learned to take responsibility for himself, and for his choices.

The contents of the letter were everything that Valerie had ever wanted to hear from Keith in life, and his last words to her would likely have been of great comfort to her. But Rodney had never told her about it.

He still didn't know why, exactly. It was a pretty rotten thing to do; Rodney knew that. At first, he'd told himself that Valerie had been messed around enough. She had been going through a lot at the time, and she'd told Keith's brother she didn't want to talk about it. After they buried him, she wanted to get on with her life and forget she'd ever married the guy.

But Rodney could also have told her a year later, when Valerie had called him up one night, drunk and crying. She was having a bad night; could he come over? So he had, and they'd had a few drinks together, and Rodney had ended up in her bed. Why hadn't he told her then? But by then, it had already been too late. If he'd told her at that point, she would have asked him why he'd kept it from her for a year. And even if his answer had somehow been acceptable to her, there was no way she would have gone to bed with him, then. And if she hadn't gone to bed with him then, they might not be together now. Rodney had always coveted his brother's wife, ever since high school. She was pretty, she was smart, and she was sexy. Rodney had asked her out back then, but she had picked his brother instead, and look how that had turned out for her. But now, Rodney had been given a second chance with his high school crush, and he didn't intend to blow it.

Rodney had never believed in ghosts, or anything like that. As far as he was concerned, stuff like that was for campfires, or B-movies. But this had to be on the level. Valerie had toughened up a lot over the years since Keith had been gone, but she had been shaking like a leaf when she'd told Rodney about his brother's visit to her house. And no one knew about the note, only Rodney. So, this had to be legit.

Now, he was torn. The guys who had just come to see him said that they intended to rid Valerie of Keith's ghost, and Rodney was all for that. But if his brother really was haunting his ex-wife over that damn note, what was going to happen to Rodney if Valerie found out he still had it?

While Sam and Dean had been talking to Rodney, Aurielle, Valerie and Gail sat down in the living room area of the women's shelter.

The chairs had been arranged in a circle, and as the woman took their places, Aurielle told Gail that the residents and the staff all got together every day at this time to have what they called "sharing hour". It was a sort of informal group therapy session that the women conducted amongst themselves, designed to keep the lines of communication open and to give any one of them a forum to speak up, if they had something that they wanted to say.

As the women were getting settled in their seats, Gail was astonished to see Cas enter the room and take a seat in the circle, across from where she was sitting. She looked at Aurielle, who smiled. "I told you that Castiel has been here quite often," she said to Gail in a soft voice. "He has been so kind and so helpful that, when he asked us if he could sit in and share, we all voted that he could. We were all joking that we've made him an honourary woman now, and he said that he has never been paid a higher compliment in his life."

Gail shook her head in wonder. How was it possible that Cas could still surprise her like this after so many years?

Once everyone was seated, Aurielle cleared her throat and welcomed them all. "We have a guest in the circle today," she announced, gesturing to Gail.

"Aurora, do you mind?" Cas said softly. "May I introduce our guest?"

"Sure, Cas," Aurielle replied.

"Our guest is my former, and hopefully future, wife, Gail," Cas said charmingly, looking around the circle.

Gail could feel everyone's eyes on her now, and it kind of freaked her out. "I'm sorry, my love," Cas said, still speaking in that soft tone. "I didn't mean to embarrass you. But I have shared in this circle about you for the past few months, and I just wanted you to know that I have confessed to some of my shortcomings, and how I have failed you as a husband. But I wasn't able to share everything I've screwed up, because we only have an hour."

Good gracious. Now all the woman were smiling at Cas, and looking curiously at Gail. Boy, it was a good thing for Gail that Aurielle wasn't still in love with Cas, because he was being entirely too cute right now. Now, Gail just had to worry about every other woman in the room.

"Is there anything you'd like to share, Gail?" Aurielle asked her. The current Angel looked at the former Angel and opened her mouth to demur, but what came out was: "Yes. I think I would."

Everyone was looking at her expectantly now. Why had she said that? What the hell?

"I don't know what Cas has told you," Gail started off hesitantly, "but he's obviously told you we're not married anymore," she sighed. Now, she was wondering not only how much she wanted to share, but how she could possibly express what she was feeling like she wanted to say. Did that even make any sense?

"I told these ladies that you have had to put up with a lot from me over the years," Cas said. "I told them that I was looking to share in hopes of receiving some instructions on how to become a better husband."

"And we said: how the hell would WE know? Nobody's ever asked us that before!" Valerie said, and most of the women laughed.

"But we also said that asking the question was a damn good start," another woman chipped in.

Gail let out a breath. "I don't know if I should be wasting everybody's time," she remarked. "Cas makes it sound like everything is his fault, but it's not."

"I have failed you, in so many ways," Cas said to her. "I need to do better. I CAN do better. You've had to be strong for so long now. I want to be strong for you. You shouldn't have to carry the burdens that you do."

"I'm not strong at all, Cas!" she exclaimed. "I've been having a nervous breakdown for the past few years. We've just been way too busy for me to notice!" She smiled wryly. "I would love for you to be strong for me, but, you know what? I would never want to go back to being the kind of woman I was when we first met. My burdens have made me a better person, and so have yours."

Cas smiled warmly. "I think you are strong beyond measure. Sometimes, the strongest women are the ones who love beyond all faults, cry behind closed doors, and fight battles that nobody even knows about."

Wow, Gail thought. Just...wow. It was like he had been in her head this whole time. Well, they did have conversations with each other there, but she felt like he had actually taken up residence there now, because that was exactly how she had been feeling. I love you, sweetie, she said to him over their frequency. I would run over there and cover you with kisses, if I could.

And there would be nothing I would love better, he said in her head. If we could.

"Well, if you two are done making googly eyes at each other, maybe we'll move on," Valerie said dryly. "And, incidentally, I'd like to share that I'm jealous as hell."

Most of the women laughed again, and then Cas's cell phone rang. He excused himself from the circle to answer it, and a couple of minutes later, he and Gail left the shelter to meet Sam and Dean.

That night, the Winchesters had Valerie's house ready to be sealed off, with someone standing by at every exit with a container of salt. If and when Keith showed up, they were going to trap him there so they could have a chat with him, and find out why he was so upset.

Sam was standing at the front door, and Dean was around the corner at the living room window. They had been bantering back and forth with each other and with Gail, who was standing at the foot of the stairs in the front hallway.

"Did you hear the one about the overweight ghost?" Sam joked. "When it manifests itself around the house, it really manifests itself around the house."

Dean laughed, but Gail's forehead wrinkled. "You know, I never really got that joke," she remarked.

"What's to get?" Dean called out to her.

"It makes no sense. Explain it to me," she insisted. "What does that even mean?"

"When it sits around the house, it sits AROUND the house," Dean repeated.

"You know, saying it again doesn't explain why it's funny," she said tartly.

"Well, humour is subjective," Sam said diplomatically.

Just as Dean was trying to think of a really good retort, Valerie shouted, "He's here!"

The three of them poured a line of salt at their various stations and then they hurried into the living room area, where Valerie was standing.

"Keith?" Sam said, and the ghost wheeled around to look at him. Suddenly, a table lamp flew at Sam. He batted it away, and it smashed on the floor.

"We just want to talk," Sam said, holding his hands up.

Cas and Aurielle came rushing into the room, and Keith looked around angrily. "What did you do?" he said to Valerie.

"What do you mean, 'what did I do'?" she responded, raising her voice. "You show up here suddenly, after I thought I was rid of you forever, and then you start trashing my home and interrogating me!? How DARE you?"

"Why don't you just leave Valerie alone, Keith? Didn't you pull enough crap on her when you were alive?" Dean asked the ghost angrily.

"Who are you to tell me what to do?" Keith shouted, but this time, he restrained himself from using any household objects to emphasize his point. He could see that Valerie was terrified. If anyone knew that look, it was Keith. But for the first time since high school, his intentions were motivated by his love for her, not himself. "Look, I don't mean anybody any harm," he said in a calmer tone. "I just wanted to talk to Valerie. I don't know who you people are, but you're not welcome here."

"You don't get it, Keith," Valerie said through gritted teeth. "These people are my friends. They're here to protect me from you. It's YOU who isn't welcome here, not them."

There was a moment's silence, and then Keith nodded slowly. "All right. OK. I deserved that. But I'm only here to help you, Val."

"HELP me?!" she exclaimed incredulously. "How is terrorizing me in my own home and breaking my furniture helping me?"

"I didn't mean to do that," Keith told her. "I was just so upset. Out of all the guys in the world, why did it have to be Rodney?"

"I don't believe that's any of your business," she said, tight-lipped. "This is unbelievable! You don't own me, Keith. You never did, even though you damn well tried, all those years. Get this through your thick, ectoplasmic skull: you don't run my life. I do. So why don't you just buzz off, go sit on some hot coals in Hell, and leave me alone?!"

"Because I still love you," Keith said in a subdued tone. "Rodney is taking advantage of you, Val. I know that next to me, he looks like a hero, but he doesn't love you. You're just a conquest to him."

"You still love me," Valerie said, her voice heavy with sarcasm. She looked at Aurielle. "Did you hear that, Aurora? He still loves me. Maybe they'll make a romantic movie about us some day. We could call it The Prince And The Punching Bag."

"Did you ask Rodney about my note?" Keith said suddenly. Valerie looked at him, startled. "That's what I thought," the ghost continued. "He's still got it. He never burned it, Val. That's why I'm here now; to tell you about the note. I know it's too little, too late, but I want you to have that letter. Rodney's kept it all these years, and he never told you about it because he wanted to get into your pants. I told you in it how sorry I was for everything I did, and everything I was. Ask Rodney to give it to you. Tell him if he doesn't, I'll come visit him next, and it won't be pretty. But I'll leave you alone, now. I know it's hard to believe, but the last thing I wanted was to upset you. I did enough of that when I was alive." Keith looked at Sam and Dean. "You don't need to use any of that ghostbusting stuff you guys have. I'm leaving voluntarily." Then he looked at Valerie once more. "All I wanted was for you to know how sorry I am, Val. Looks like I messed that up too, just like I messed up everything when we were together. I wish I could go back and do it all differently. I only want you to be happy, Val. That's all. I mean it. Goodbye, honey." Then there was a big gust of wind, which blew the salt lines away, and then Keith was gone.

Valerie knuckled a couple of tears out of the corners of her eyes. "He used to call me that before things went bad," she said in a trembling voice. Aurielle went over to her and put her arms around her friend, giving her a hug.

"So, what do you think?" Cas asked the Winchesters. "Is he really gone?"

Sam took the EMF unit out of his jacket and turned it on. "I'm not getting anything," he remarked. "It looks like he's really gone."

Valerie came out of the embrace, smiling ruefully. "Thanks for coming, you guys. I guess I wasted your time."

"Are you kidding? 'Thick, ectoplasmic skull'? That's the best insult I've heard in a long time," Dean said, grinning. "I'm totally stealing that."

His comment coaxed a laugh out of Valerie, and she said, "Feel free. But in the meantime, if you can give me a second to clean up the mess, I'd like to offer you all a drink." She gestured to the broken glass on the floor.

"Allow me," Cas said with a gentle smile. He waved his pinky finger, and the lamp was repaired, and back on the table.

"Wow," Valerie said, nodding her head with approval. "Do you do home repairs? I've been trying to stop my kitchen tap from dripping for about a month now."

Cas waved his hand. "Done," he said, still smiling.

But then, Valerie frowned. "I guess I'm going to have to have a little chat with my former brother-in-law," she said. "If Keith was telling the truth, I guess Rodney's got some explaining to do."

Dean gestured towards Cas, and the two men moved off to talk in private. "I want to go see Nicole for a bit," the elder Winchester told Cas, "but don't worry, I know the rules." He grinned. "Maybe she and I can actually get to know each other better, if all we can do is talk."

Cas sighed. He really couldn't raise too much of an objection. Of course Dean wanted to see his girlfriend. "All right, Dean. If you want, I'll take you over there for an hour or so," he told his friend.

Cas came back to tell Valerie that there was somewhere else that Dean needed to be, and she said, "Sure, by all means. I'll give you a rain cheque on that drink, then. I have to talk to Rodney, anyway. The sooner the better, I guess. If he's still got that note, and if he read it and didn't tell me about it after all this time, I think I'll dump his lying ass. If there's anything I've learned from my tour of duty with Keith, it's to stick up for myself. No man is ever going to screw with me again."

"Good for you," Gail said, smiling. Then she quipped, "I think that was the original line that Scarlett O'Hara was supposed to say in Gone With The Wind."

They all chatted for an additional minute or two, and then Cas took Dean and Sam to Nicole's apartment. Sam was going to walk to a nearby coffee place and hang out there, giving his brother and his girlfriend some private time.

Meanwhile, Gail transported Aurielle to the small apartment the former Angel kept that was located a few blocks from the shelter. Aurielle put the kettle on the stove, and then she sat down with Gail at the kitchen table.

"It's nice to have you visit my home," Aurielle said to Gail. "I know it's not too grand, but I'm proud of it, anyway."

"I think it's very nice," Gail commented. It was funny; a few short years ago, she would never have been able to sit like this with Aurielle. Well, not without having to take her weapon out, anyway. "Actually, now that we have a moment alone, I just wanted to say that I'm happy to see you doing so well," Gail added.

"I'm very happy with my life," the former Angel said, "and one day soon, you will be again too, Gail. Castiel loves you very much. So much. Just after New Years', he came to the shelter with his usual generous donation, and he asked us if he could sit in the share circle. He feels as if he's let you down, as he said earlier today. There were a lot of things he couldn't say, of course, because only Valerie and myself know about our special circumstances. But still, he was able to impart enough facts for us all to lend a sympathetic ear. He feels responsible for many of the ills that have befallen the two of you."

"Well, he shouldn't," Gail replied promptly.

"Be that as it may, he does," Aurielle said calmly. She rose from her chair and took the boiling kettle off the burner, fixing herself a cup of tea.

As Gail sat there thinking about that, Aurielle said, "I hope Valerie does break up with Rodney. He's all wrong for her."

Suddenly, Cas's voice was in Gail's head, asking if it was all right for him to pop in. Gail relayed his message to Aurielle, who smiled. "Always the gentleman," she commented. "Please tell him it's fine."

Cas showed up immediately, and he sat down at the opposite end of the table, across from Gail. Aurielle brought her cup of tea back to her chair, sitting between the couple.

"I was just telling Gail that I hope Valerie will break up with Rodney," Aurielle told Cas. "I love her, and I want her to be happy. He will not make her so, especially if he is lying to her."

"That is very true," Cas said, nodding. "Honesty is very important."

"I had been telling her for a while that I didn't think he was any good," Aurielle said, frowning. "But she didn't listen to me. And now, she will see that I was right."

Gail glanced at Cas, and they did their non-verbal communication thing. Gail was wondering if her prior instincts had been correct with regard to Aurielle. Was "Aurora" actually in love with Valerie? Or was she just barking up the wrong tree, so to speak, because she wanted so badly to be loved in return? Was she becoming obsessive again, just like she'd been with Cas?

Cas cleared his throat softly. "I'm not sure if it's any of our business - " he started to say, but Aurielle smiled and held up her hand. "It's all right, Castiel. I know what you're going to say," she said calmly. "And you don't need to worry. I'm not the same woman I once was. I'm not obsessive, and I'm not desperate. It doesn't matter if Valerie ever loves me back. It's enough for me just to be around her, in her company. I only want happiness for her, that is all."

"That is true love, in its purest form," Cas remarked. "Loving someone, without expecting anything in return. You love them simply because you love them." He was looking at Gail now. "Their welfare is first and foremost of importance to you."

"That's right, Castiel," Aurielle replied, nodding emphatically. "That's how I feel."

"That's how I feel, too," Gail said, looking at Cas. "Please don't blame yourself for everything that's happened, sweetie. Please. I don't think you need lessons on being a better husband. You're already the best one I'll ever have. And I've been married multiple times, now," she added with a mischievous smile.

They smiled at each other for a moment, and then Cas's cell phone rang.

It was Dean. "Nicole wants to talk to you guys," he said.

"Should I be standing behind Cas for protection?" Gail joked when they appeared in Nicole's living room.

"No, of course not," Nicole said, bemused. "I have to admit, I wasn't too impressed on New Year's Eve. But now, I've decided to find the situation funny. You and your hubby are only halfway through the six months now, and the new movie is coming out next week. So I wanted to invite you all to the premiere...and, Cas?"

"Yes, Nicole?" he asked her.

"You're coming as my date," Nicole said, smirking.

VIGNETTE - MY BEST FRIEND'S GIRLFRIEND

The premiere of the sequel to the Supernatural movie was taking place in Vancouver this time. It was decided that the fans who had supported the TV show from the very beginning, most of whom were local, should be given the first opportunity to see the film.

Cas dutifully showed up at Nicole's door dressed in a tuxedo, carrying a bouquet of flowers. "What are those for?" she asked him.

"I'm your date, am I not?" Cas said, puzzled. "They're for you."

Nicole laughed. "You're one of a kind, Cas," she said, taking the flowers from him. "Maybe I should get you to give Dean a few lessons." She got a vase out of her dining room cabinet. Once the flowers were put in it, she took the arm that Cas offered to her. "This is definitely one for my journal," she joked lightly. "The night I went out on a date with God."

"I don't want to make Dean jealous, so let me tell you now how pretty you look," Cas said charmingly.

Nicole laughed again. "Hey, feel free to say that when we get there, and make sure he hears it. His game could use a little work."

But as soon as they got to the theatre and Cas saw Gail, it was pretty much all over. He was kind and attentive to Nicole, but Cas's eyes followed Gail wherever she went. Gail had dressed with care, and she had even gone out and gotten her hair done. Dean was fairly oblivious, but of course, she hadn't done it for him.

When the movie started, the couples were sitting on opposite sides with Sam in the middle, and even though Gail loved the movie, it just wasn't the same. As she watched a version of her and Cas up on the big screen, falling in love, getting married, and defeating Lucifer side by side, she kept looking over at real Cas. He was looking back at her, and she could hear his voice in her head over the sound of the movie, telling her that he loved her. Then, he asked her to pay close attention to the song that was going to be playing during the scene where Castiel proposed to Gail in the film. That was the song that Richard's wife Wilma had told them that she had written for the movie, at the Never Have I Ever party.

When the scene came on the screen, Gail started to cry silent tears. Chuck had written it exactly as it had happened, and the song's lyrics incorporated the words that Cas had used in his proposal. She looked at him, surprised. "I may have been consulted on this scene, and on the lyrics to the song," Cas said charmingly in her head. "Three more months, my darling. Then we will make new memories, and write a new song."

Gail sniffled back the tears. Of course. Of course they would. She needed to stop being such a whiny crybaby. She smiled. Maybe it was time for another visit with Frank.

But, man, the last three months had better go quickly. As she watched her and Cas's characters making love on the big screen, Gail squirmed in her seat. She and Cas hadn't touched each other in over three months, except for that brief hug of comfort he had given her in New Orleans. She wasn't even allowed to hold his hand right now. She stared at the actor who played Cas, up on the big screen. Boy, was he ever good-looking. He looked like he'd been working out, too. The last time he and Cas had seen each other, the actor had made a light-hearted comment on how buff Cas looked. Gail was captivated by how sexy he and the Gail character looked together. She couldn't stop staring at them.

"Keep it in your pants, Mrs. Winchester," Dean said softly in her ear, smirking. She elbowed him in the ribs, hard.

Was it her imagination, or did their characters touch and kiss each other an awful lot in this movie? Gail was thinking. She felt very warm now. Her character was healing the shirtless Cas character after a battle, and the woman's hands were lingering on his torso for an awfully long time. Oh, great. Now she was getting jealous of herself. This was the stupidest, most ridiculous...

Three more months, she told herself. Three more months.

The night before her six-month marriage to Dean was due to be over, Gail was sitting at the library table trying to read a book, but it was impossible to concentrate. Finally. Tomorrow, Cas would be here, and she and Dean's marriage would be annulled. She couldn't wait.

Dean approached her, with his hands behind his back. "Hey, Mrs. Winchester," he said to her. "Excited about tomorrow?"

She put the book down. "Tomorrow?" she joked. "Why? What's so special about tomorrow?"

He brought a bottle of champagne and two glasses out from behind his back, setting them on the table. "I figured we'd celebrate, just the two of us," he said, pouring her a glass. Then he brought it around to her side of the table, poured himself a glass, and lifted it in a toast. "Here's to the most amicable divorce any couple will ever have," Dean said with a smile. They clinked glasses and drank.

"I hate to tell you this, but legally, I'm entitled to half your stuff now," she quipped. "Sam's going to represent me."

Dean smirked, sitting down next to her. "Last chance to have sex with me," he wisecracked. "You're still my lawfully wedded wife tonight. Hundreds of women could tell you how great I am, you know."

"Hundreds?" Gail said skeptically. "Isn't this where we came in? So, I'll say the same thing to you now as I did then: ewwww."

He continued to smile. "I'm gonna miss when you cry at movies, and pretend you're not doing it. I'm gonna miss coming into the kitchen in the morning and seeing the look on your face when I forget to close my robe. I'm gonna miss your breakfasts, and the way you roll my socks into those stupid little balls. It used to drive me crazy at first, but now, I kinda like it." He paused. "I'm gonna miss YOU, Gail."

She smiled back at him. "And I'm going to miss seeing you wolf down the breakfasts I make, like I'm the greatest cook in the world. I'm going to miss how you complain every time you have to take out your wallet to pay when we go out, even though you and Sam are millionaires. And I'll miss how you whine and moan every time I put some pop music on the radio, but then I catch you tapping your foot to it. And I'll miss how you deny that, when I call you on it. And, how you deny it when I catch you tearing up at the movies I watch." She paused. "I'll miss some things about living with you and Sam, but I won't miss YOU, because we'll still see each other all the time." Gail raised her glass, and they had another toast.

"So, I wonder how this divorce thing works for you and me?" Dean mused. "Hopefully, there won't be any stupid Angel crap we've gotta do."

Gail smiled again. "Hopefully, we can get our annulment if I commit adultery with another man. I have just the candidate in mind, too. He's tall, dark-haired, very handsome, and extremely Godly. I would be glad to cheat on you. Very glad. Really, really glad."

Dean rolled his eyes. "OK, OK, I get it. Geez. You're gonna give me a complex, or something. Maybe I don't want you cheating on me. Whaddaya think about that?"

"I think you're full of it," she said pertly. "I think that as soon as Cas gets here tomorrow and we do whatever it is we're supposed to do, you're gonna be at Nicole's with your pants off before I can even bid you farewell."

Dean laughed softly. "Yeah. And thanks to your ex-husband, I'll have to bring flowers, or chocolates, or some kind of crap like that, now."

Now it was Gail's turn to laugh. "Good," she said, nodding her head approvingly. "He's teaching you how to be a gentleman. It's about time."

Dean yawned. "Well, I'm gonna get some shuteye. If I know the Almighty, and I do, he'll be here at dawn. Maybe I can get one more breakfast out of you before you divorce me?"

Gail laughed again. "Maybe. If you ask nicely."

Dean drained his glass, and then he stood from his chair. "I'll see you in the morning, Mrs. Winchester." He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead as she bade him goodnight, and then he walked down the hall.

Gail sat there, lost in thought. It was funny; when she and Dean had been married here on New Year's Eve, she'd felt like six months was an eternity. However, now that the term of their marriage would be over tomorrow, she was feeling almost nostalgic about it. But, her pulse raced with excitement when she allowed herself to think about the fact that Cas would be here in just a few short hours, and they would finally be able to hold hands, and kiss, and canoodle like teenagers. She couldn't wait.

But when the next morning came, Cas wasn't there.


	5. Brothers In Arms

Chapter 5 - Brothers In Arms

"Hey! Happy Divorce Day!" Sam exclaimed, entering the kitchen the next morning. "Sorry I didn't get you guys a present, but I wasn't sure what would be appropriate."

Gail turned around to look at him, and she was frowning. She had been setting up the coffee and getting the mugs out of the cupboard, just to keep herself busy.

"What's the matter?" Sam asked her, his brow furrowing with concern. "I thought you'd be doing cartwheels."

"OK, let's get this divorce show on the road," Dean said breezily, coming into the kitchen. "Look. I even left my robe open one last time, just for old times' sake." Then he pretended to look around furtively. "Sorry, Cas, I just flashed your soon-to-be fiancee."

Gail let out a frustrated breath. "Don't bother. He's not here."

Dean's eyebrows rose. "He's not? I thought he'd be perched on the edge of my bed before the sun came up, poking me to get me to wake up."

She frowned again. "So did I," she said simply.

"Have you tried calling him?" Sam asked her. Gail fixed him with a withering glare, but she said nothing. No, she hadn't tried to call him. Why would she have? She had also expected Cas to be here before daybreak, pacing the floor and waiting for Dean to get out of bed. The fact that he hadn't shown up yet was atypical of him, and it worried her. But, was she going to call him and ask him why he didn't seem as eager as she was to dissolve her marriage to Dean and get back together with him? Absolutely not. She had her pride.

But Dean was already calling Cas on his cell phone. It rang and rang, but Cas wasn't picking up. Finally, it went to Voice Mail, and Dean left a somewhat puzzled message. Then he hung up, giving Gail a half-shrug.

She was equal parts concerned and angry. Where could Cas be? How was it that he wasn't here? They'd been joking about "Divorce Day" for weeks. What the hell? Now, worry was starting to take over. What could possibly have happened to keep him away?

Finally, Gail gave in and called Cas on their frequency. She didn't get a response at first, either. But then, just as she was about to give up, he responded, saying tersely that he would be there shortly.

Gail sighed. There was nothing else to do but wait, then.

"Breakfast?" Dean said hopefully.

Cas went back to untying the ropes that bound Frank to the chair, and once Frank was free, Cas untied Eric. He could have just waved his hand to do it, but there was another young man who was bound to yet another chair beside Eric, and he was a stranger to Cas.

Nuke was freaking out. Mr. Rycroft had called him and Eric to come here to the warehouse a few hours ago. The two of them had been playing video games in Eric's apartment, just hanging out. Then the boss had called, saying he wanted the two of them to come and help him take care of a couple of snitches. They had looked at each other, astonished. Was he kidding with this? But Mr. Rycroft didn't make jokes. Ever. In all the time they'd been doing his little errands, neither of them had ever seen him even crack a smile. If Mr. Rycroft had a first name, nobody had ever found out what it was. He was a guy you didn't mess around with. But, they had only ever been errand boys for him before. What the hell?

Mr. Rycroft had said he was going to send a couple of men to pick them up, and that his "aides" would be there in half an hour. But when there was a knock on Eric's door and he'd answered it, Eric had been stunned to see Frank standing there.

"Hey, Eric, what's happening?" Rob's dad had said casually. "I was just in the neighbourhood, and I thought I'd stop by."

"You were in the neighbourhood?" Eric said, cocking an eyebrow at him.

"Well...in the neighbourhood of Jody's car, which drove me to the airport, where I got on a plane, where I took a cab here. So, yeah. In the neighbourhood."

Eric was bemused. Frank was funny sometimes, but he was also weird. He meant well, though. Rob and Eric had had some brotherly bonding moments when Eric had been staying at their house, and Rob had told his brother how good Frank and Jody had been to him, ever since he'd met them. All of them had.

But Eric had elected to leave and come back here, a move that he'd been deeply regretting ever since. He was torn between wanting to be independent, and wanting to be part of Rob's extended family. He'd thought he had a life to come back to here, but Eric had been wrong. He hated to admit it, but God had been right. The more he'd thought about it, the more Eric had started to consider just calling Rob up and asking him if it would be OK to come back. But as of yet, his pride had prevented him from making that call. And now here he was, being told to "take care of" some snitches for his boss, with Rob's dad on his doorstep, totally oblivious to what was about to go down.

"Who's the old guy?" Nuke asked, and the look on Frank's face would have sent Gail into fits of laughter, had she been there.

"I'm Eric's uncle," Frank said, regarding Nuke coolly. "Who the hell are you?"

"Nuke," the young man replied, unfazed.

"Nuke?" Frank echoed, incredulous. "Nuke? Like the bomb? Nuke?" He couldn't seem to stop saying the word. Nuke. Geez. In his day, guys had had normal names. But then, Frank had to check himself. What was he, like, a hundred years old? He'd better not use a phrase like "in my day" to Eric, or Rob's brother would never come back to Kansas with him. And that was the whole reason that Frank had come. This was b.s. Jody had done some checking around, and a couple of her cop friends had told her that this Rycroft guy was bad news. It was common knowledge that he was doing business with a number of South American crime lords. But it was also common knowledge that the guy was Teflon. He never did any of his dirty work himself. He would groom young prospects, giving them relatively easy jobs and paying them handsomely for them. And then, when he felt his minions were ready, Rycroft would have the young men perform a task for him that would bind them to his organization. In the old country, crime lords called it "making their bones".

And today just so happened to be the day that Eric and Nuke were expected to make their bones, but no one had anticipated Frank's presence on the scene. Nonetheless, Rycroft's men had adjusted quickly once they got there. They menaced the young men with their guns, and because Frank's aim had merely been conversation, and because he had flown here, he didn't have a weapon. He hadn't even brought any luggage. So he'd had no choice but to get in those guys' car, and they had taken the trio to the warehouse, where Mr. Rycroft had been waiting.

"Who is this?" he'd demanded angrily when his men had shown up with an extra person.

"I'm Eric's uncle, you son of a bitch," Frank had answered defiantly. Well, close enough. "And it's actually a good thing I'm here, because now we don't have to bother writing these guys' resignation letters, and then searching for a stamp. So if you'll tell Tweedledee and Tweedledumber here to stand down, we'll be on our way."

"Nice try, 'uncle'," Mr. Rycroft said calmly. "Obviously, timing is not your long suit. That's unfortunate for you. But, these fine young men will not be leaving my employ. My aides will take them to the venue where the job needs to be done and you can wait here, until they finish. Then, we'll all sit down and have a nice little chat."

Mr. Rycroft's men had slammed Frank down into a chair and tied him up, nice and tight. And then they'd gagged him, because they didn't like his smart mouth.

But then, Eric had faced his boss. "What are gonna do with him?" he asked the man, nodding his head towards Frank.

"Is that any of your business?" the crime lord said coldly.

"Yes, it IS my business!" Eric shouted. "Of course it's my business! He's my family!"

"I thought that WE were your family," Nuke said to his friend. "That's what you told us, when you first started working for Mr. Rycroft. Remember?"

"Well, I was wrong!" Eric exclaimed. "I want out!"

"It's too late for that," Mr. Rycroft told the young man. "So, here's what's going to happen: you and Nuke are going to do what I want you to do, when I want you to do it. What did you think? That I was paying you all that money because I'm such a nice guy? No. That was a down payment on future services. I thought you understood how the world worked, Eric."

But now, it was Nuke who looked puzzled. "Future services?" he repeated. "And what would THOSE be, exactly? I didn't sign on for anything else. What kind of services?"

"What do you think?" Mr. Rycroft said again, and there was an edge to his voice now. He'd dealt with naive kids before, but this was getting ridiculous.

"If you're talking about killing somebody, I don't think I want to know," Nuke said nervously.

"I'm not talking about anything like that, and no one can prove otherwise," Mr. Rycroft said briskly. "That's one of the first things you boys need to learn. Never admit to anything."

"Oh, so THAT'S why you never introduce yourself to people as a giant dick," Eric said acidly.

Frank chortled behind his gag, and Nuke gasped. "Eric..." he said warningly, but his young friend put his hand up in a halting gesture. "No, Nuke. No. I should have done this a long time ago, and so should you. What we do for these guys is wrong. We both know that. And, what? Now we're supposed to kill people? I'm no killer. The only way I'm killing anybody is if they threaten me, or my family."

"So, let me get this straight: are you disobeying a direct order?" Rycroft asked the young men, tight-lipped.

"Yeah," Eric said insolently, and Nuke nodded reluctantly.

Frank's heart sank. He was proud of the boys, but he doubted very much that Rycroft was going to just shake their hands and write them a severance cheque. What were they supposed to do now? This was the point in the movie when the good guys usually pounced on the guys with the guns and overpowered them, turning the tables. But Eric and Nuke were just standing there. Geez, hadn't those video games they were always playing taught them anything? If Frank was freed from these stupid ropes, he would show them how it was done. He wouldn't even need backup. He -

If Frank's hands had been free, he would have smacked himself on the forehead, hard. What. An. Idiot. Frank had the best damn backup a person could ever ask for. But the problem was, how could he access it? He highly doubted Rycroft would untie him long enough to let him use his cell phone.

Frank started making a strangling noise, and Rycroft rolled his eyes. Here it came. Uncle was going to see if he could bargain for their lives. He sincerely doubted the man had anything to say that would be of interest to him, but the noise was starting to grate on his nerves. So Rycroft nodded to one of his men to remove the gag around Frank's mouth. Once it was off, the crime boss said, "What is it?"

"Oh, Heavenly God, hear my prayer," Frank said, and Rycroft rolled his eyes again. "Shut him up," he said harshly, and the minion brought the butt of the gun down on Frank's head, knocking him unconscious.

Suddenly, another man entered the warehouse. "Sorry to interrupt, Boss," he said. "Mr. Santiago is here."

Rycroft glanced at his watch. "He's early," he remarked irritably. Then he let out a breath. "Fine. Tie them up, too," he said, gesturing to Eric and Nuke. "I'll decide what to do with them when we get back."

So the two younger men were trussed up alongside an unconscious Frank, and Mr. Rycroft and his men left the building. Eric was looking at Rob's dad admiringly now, thinking about how smart that idea had been. But it obviously hadn't been good enough. He still wasn't sure how he felt about Cas, but Eric guessed he had to cut the guy a break. God must receive billions of prayers, all day long. And Frank never got the chance to say who was calling, why they were calling, or even where they were. He glanced at Nuke. But he had to do something, and he had to do it now, or they were toast.

"Cas, it's Eric," the young man said aloud, ignoring the strange look Nuke was giving him. "Please, hear my prayer." He told Cas about the situation, and who he was with. "I know I lipped off to you when I was there, and I'm real sorry. But please, don't hold that against us. Please help us now. Amen."

Nuke was smirking now. "I know you were brought up religious, but what religion calls the Big Guy 'Cas'?" he joked skeptically.

"Just wait," Eric replied. "Hopefully, you're gonna find out in a minute."

Cas had just finished shaving when Frank's prayer had come in. He was in his and Gail's house on Earth, preparing himself to go to the bunker. As Gail and Dean had suspected, he had come to Earth well before the sunrise, but he had come here, instead of going to the bunker. Cas knew how Dean hated to be awoken early in the morning, and Cas had had preparations to make, anyway. He had showered, shaved, and combed and then re-combed his hair, and then he had stood in front of the bedroom closet clad only in a towel, puzzling over what to wear, like a young girl going to her high school prom. A suit would be too dressy. Jeans, then? But he usually wore jeans, so what would be so special about that? The black jeans, maybe. She liked those on him. What colour should the shirt be, then? Gail favoured bright colours. Red? Green? Purple? Blue, to match his eyes?

He had dressed, and then he had puzzled over what sort of flowers to take. Should he go with variety, and conjure up a summer arrangement? Or should he just stick with roses, which were her favourite? If so, what colour should they be? Was there a colour that said: 'I'm so glad your forced marriage to my best friend is over, now will you go out on a date with me, please'?

Cas had smiled at that thought. He would have to remember to tell her that. He was sure she would find it funny. He ended up making her one of each. But when he'd been running his hand over his chin, puzzling over whether the flower arrangements were good enough, Cas had thought that his face still felt a little rough, so he'd gone back to the bathroom to shave again. And as he was shaving, he was re-thinking his choice of clothes now.

Frank's prayer had come through as Cas was standing at the mirror. At first, it hadn't really registered on him. Cas had a system where he kept his frequencies just ajar, not wide open. If he kept them that open, the traffic would be too overwhelming for his mind to process, sort of like turning on all the world's radios and TV sets all at once. Still, the occasional strong entreaty slipped through. It was inevitable. So, as Cas stood at the bathroom mirror running his hand over his face and second-guessing his wardrobe for the fourth time, he heard it: "Oh, Heavenly God, hear my prayer."

Cas didn't think too much about what he'd heard. As prayers went, it was a fairly standard beginning. He hoped that the person from whom the prayer had issued would be all right. A while back, when Gail had admonished one of their loved ones, likely Dean, that God wasn't a genie who granted wishes upon demand, she'd been quite right. Still, there had been something very familiar about the man's voice, as if Cas should have known who he was.

But he couldn't think about that right now. Cas had to make sure that everything was perfect for his arrival at the bunker. He checked his appearance again. His stubble had been tamed for the time being, and his hair had settled nicely. No matter how hard he tried, Cas could never seem to get his hair follicles to cooperate with each other. Every time he combed it, his hair would seem to arrange itself as though certain areas were in business for themselves. But, in one of the many mysteries about women that Cas was sure he would never be able to solve, Gail seemed to like it that way. She'd teased him when they were alone together that many men paid for that look, which she called "carefully tousled". Or, when she was feeling especially mischievous, she'd called it his "sex hair". So, since his mate seemed to like the way it looked, Cas let it be. And he was pleased that his cheeks and chin finally felt smooth, because Cas was hoping she would touch his face today. Besides holding her hand, that was what he had been most looking forward to today. As soon as the simple annulment ritual for her marriage to Dean had been conducted, Cas would be free to court Gail, and he intended to make the most of it. In his mind, this fresh start that the two of them were going to have was just that, and Cas wanted to take full advantage of it.

Maybe he should go into the bedroom and look at his clothing choices one more time. Or had he done enough stalling by now? Dean must be up by this time. This was a very big day for him, too. Cas had noticed a touch of coolness between Nicole and Dean back at the time of the movie premiere, and he didn't imagine it had gotten any better since. Nicole had had to put up with more than many women would have, in her relationship with Dean. The long distance and the sporadic communications were problematic in and amongst themselves. But then, there had been their serious tactical error in not having let Nicole in on the secret when Dean had died, and now, the poor woman had been forced to sit back and wait half a year for Dean to be free from his marriage to another woman. For humans, six months was a very significant amount of time. Yet, she hadn't broken up with Dean, and even though Dean still hadn't told his girlfriend everything she probably had a right to know, Cas could tell that his friend's feelings for Nicole were genuine. Dean just needed a little practice behaving like a proper boyfriend, in Cas's opinion. That was probably because he'd had so few actual relationships with women.

Cas was standing in the bedroom now, woolgathering, when his eyes lit on the bureau. Oh, no! He'd almost forgotten a very important step. He rushed over there now and grabbed the bottle of Paco Rabanne he kept on the surface of the dresser. Gail loved smelling this cologne on him. She would have been very disappointed if he wasn't wearing it when he came. Cas applied the cologne very carefully. Not too much, or it would be overpowering, but not so little that he might as well not have even bothered.

There. That should be everything, now. Cas did a quick mental checklist, and he was just about to pop over to the dining room area to get the flowers when he heard the second prayer, coming from Eric this time.

Cas vanished from the house immediately.

Cas freed Nuke, and all three humans were standing and stretching now, rubbing their limbs where the ropes had bitten into their skin.

"Let me guess: Cas," Nuke said, bemused.

"Yes," Cas said briskly. He approached Frank. "Are any of you hurt?" he asked Gail's brother.

"No, but I have a lump on my head where that butt hit me with his gun. See what I did there?" he said to the boys. He pointed to his head, and Cas touched the area he was indicating. But there was no blood on Cas's fingers when he took his hand away, so then Cas turned to look at Eric next.

But, Frank being Frank, he was sniffing at the air now. "Geez, Cas, you smell good. You didn't need to stop and fix yourself up for us. I don't even think those guys showered today," he joked.

Now Cas was inspecting Eric. The young man wasn't used to such scrutiny, and it was freaking him out a bit. But he was so happy to see Cas that he didn't really care. "Thanks for coming," Eric said to him. "We're OK; we just need to get the hell out of here."

Cas was puzzled. "Couldn't you have just - " he started to say, and then he realized. Perhaps Eric hadn't teleported himself out of here because of the other young man's presence. That was why Cas himself had winked to the outside of the building, and untied the men the human way.

But Nuke disabused him of that notion when he said, "It's too bad you can't zap other people around, only yourself," he said to Eric. "Thanks for not screwing off on us, man."

"I'd never do anything like that," Eric said firmly. "And besides, Cas is God. He's got the muscle."

Nuke looked at Eric, and then at Cas. "Oh, so you were serious? You guys were actually praying to this guy, and he actually showed up? What the hell? Are you trying to tell me that he's God?"

Cas was subjecting Nuke to the examination for injuries now, and Cas was smiling. "I get that often," Cas said to the young man. "But, now that I have ascertained that you are all uninjured, I will transport you to wherever it is that you need to go, and then I will have to leave. I have a very important appointment to keep, and I'm already late for it."

The light dawned, and Frank sighed. "Oh, crap. Was that today?" he asked his former brother-in-law. "Then, we'd better get going. This Rycroft guy might be bad, but he pales in comparison to my sister when she gets mad."

"Really?" Mr. Rycroft said dryly. "Well, with all due respect to your sister, I would worry more about me, at the moment." The crime boss had re-entered the warehouse with his underlings, and the men's guns were drawn. "I see you've got a new friend," he continued sardonically. "Well, that's all right. We've got plenty of bullets for all of you."

Cas waved his hand, and the men's weapons disappeared. He could see that each of the minions had sidearms under their coats, and Rycroft himself wore a well-hidden shoulder holster under his suit jacket. Cas vapourized those, as well. "We will be leaving now," he told the crime boss.

Rycroft's eyes narrowed. "I don't know who you are, or what you think you're doing, but you can go ahead and leave, if you like. Then I'll just track you all down, and we'll continue this discussion at a later time."

"I think not," Cas said quietly. "Your business with these men is concluded."

"I don't agree," Mr. Rycroft said coolly. "And since my opinion is the only one that matters here, I will be seeing you all at another time, I can promise you that. While I was meeting with Mr. Santiago, I had one of my assistants do a little research. Your adoptive mother lives here in town, Eric, doesn't she? And, Nuke, your sister's pregnant again, right? I believe you've been sending her half of the salary I've been paying you, in fact, haven't you? It would be a real shame if anything happened to her, or her kids." He looked at Frank. "The intel on you and your new friend will take a little bit longer, but believe me, we will get it. So, go ahead. Leave."

"I don't have the time for this, or for you and your threats," Cas said angrily. He strode forward and slapped his hand on Rycroft's forehead. The bright white glow came out, and the crime boss was reduced to a smoking husk on the warehouse floor a few moments later. Then Cas looked at the two "aides", who were just standing there, paralyzed with shock. "That will be your fate too, if you do not decide to live your lives right," he said grimly to the both of them. "I will be watching you, to make sure you make the right decisions." Then he waved his hand, and he and the others were standing in Eric's apartment. Cas had read the location from Frank's mind, when he had touched Gail's brother's head.

This was the moment that Gail had happened to make her tentative call to Cas, and he had replied so shortly because he was preoccupied with making sure that Frank and the young men were taken care of.

Now Cas was looking at the trio, who were all staring back at him. He felt the need to explain. "I wouldn't normally have automatically killed an individual as you saw back there," he said haltingly, "but I read that man's thoughts, and I could see that he was very serious. He was not going to stop until all of your loved ones were dead. The men who served him were having doubts. That is why I left them alive. But I will continue to monitor them, as I've said. Also, if anyone menaces you or your families, you will notify me immediately." Cas looked at Nuke. "Usually, this is the point at which I would modify your memory, so that you wouldn't remember any of what you have just seen or experienced. However, you will need to remember, so that if any threats to your sister or her children are made, you can pray to me, and let me know."

"So you would really wipe out my memory, just like those Men In Black guys?" Nuke asked him.

Cas's forehead wrinkled. He looked down at himself. Well, he WAS wearing black jeans, but he failed to see what that would have to do with anything.

Frank recognized the look on Cas's face, and he laughed out loud. One of the best things about Cas was that he could be a really scary BAMF one minute, and then be all puzzled over a movie reference the next. "Can you give me a lift home on your way to the bunker, Cas?" Frank said now.

Cas gave Gail's brother a tight smile. He was aware that he was quite late, now. "Certainly, Frank."

"Well, it's been real," Frank said to the younger men. "You guys better get working on your resumes. And, Nuke? You might wanna use some kind of alias if you're planning on getting a job at the airport, or at Homeland Security."

"Wait," Eric said, and Frank and Cas paused.

"Can I come with you?" Eric blurted out.

Cas was chomping at the bit now, but his family still needed his help, and he could hardly refuse. So he sent Gail a slightly longer message, saying that he had been detained for a very important reason, and he would fill them in when he got there.

Nuke had thanked Cas and then taken off to his own apartment, telling the others that he was probably going to move out, and fly under the radar for a while. But he promised to pray to Cas if there were any problems, and Frank gave Eric's friend his cell phone number as well, just in case.

Then, Eric had packed a few belongings in the backpack he'd brought from Frank's place, and put some money in an envelope for his landlord, along with a note.

"I need to say goodbye to my mom," Eric said apologetically. "I want her to know I'm leaving town."

Frank raised an eyebrow at that. He wondered why Eric wouldn't just move back in with his mother, if he was planning on cleaning up his act. But there was obviously a lot more going on there than simple rebellion. And Rob would be so happy to have his brother back. He looked at Cas, giving him a half-shrug. Frank knew how anxious Cas was to get to the bunker, but he also wanted to make sure to get Eric out of Dodge before the kid changed his mind again.

Cas sighed. "If you will give me your mother's address, I will meet you there in a few minutes," he said to Eric. "If you and Frank are able to take a taxi there, I will need about fifteen minutes." Then he vanished, and Frank smirked. Fifteen minutes, huh? Sam and Dean would have to go out to the garage and get a crowbar to pry Cas's lips off his sister's in fifteen minutes. But he guessed he could give the guy a bit of a break. Cas had really come through for them back there. "Give her a hug from me," Frank said, clapping Cas on the shoulder. Cas disappeared without another word, and Eric pulled out his cell phone to call a cab.

But Cas didn't go to the bunker, as much as he wanted to. Instead, he went to Frank's house. "I don't want to spoil the surprise, but, Frank is bringing Eric here to stay," Cas told Jody and Rob. "I'm here to help make him feel a little more welcome, if you'll let me."

He told Jody what he had in mind, and she looked at him, surprised. "Can you really do that, Cas?" she asked him.

"Of course I can," he said mildly. "You've been to our house on Earth, after I made the changes there."

She grinned. "Then by all means, go ahead. That'd be great."

So he had waved his hands, and made the addition to the house. Now there was an entire wing that hadn't been there before, complete with two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a den, a kitchen area, and a separate entrance. Yet the addition to the house was internal only, and would be indistinguishable to their neighbours. Then Cas furnished the place and stocked the refrigerator and cupboards with food, remembering that Gail had said how much the boys liked to eat.

"Holy crap, Cas," Rob had breathed, after Cas had invited him and Jody to have a look. "I don't know what to say. Thanks! Now Eric and I can have our own space, but we can also be here with Mom and Dad and Angela, too."

"I just wanted to demonstrate to Eric that he is welcome to join our family, and that I can do other things, besides lecture," Cas said a little stiffly, and mother and son exchanged smiles.

"And now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go," Cas went on, smiling faintly. "If I don't get to the bunker soon, I may have to move in here with you." Then he vanished.

Eric introduced his adoptive mother to Frank, and vice versa. She'd looked astonished when Eric had knocked on her door, and even more surprised when he'd told her about his brother Rob.

Alice couldn't believe it. After all this time, Eric had the nerve to waltz in here and tell her he was leaving town with his brother's adoptive father. No mention of the fact that up until today, he had been working for a dangerous crime lord. Or the fact that before that, Eric had met his brother Rob while the two had been held captive in upstate New York in a compound run by their evil father. Did he think that she was blind, or just stupid? The instant that Eric had left her house, Alice had been keeping close tabs on him. She'd taken some of the money that she'd gotten from Eric's adoptive dad's life insurance and hired several private detectives to keep an eye on Eric and Rob, and some of the other children. She had her reasons, but she was not about to share them with these two.

But she was Eric's loving mother, wasn't she? So she exchanged pleasantries with Frank, gave her son a hug and a kiss and made him promise to stay in touch, and even manufactured a couple of tears as she closed the door softly behind them.

Cas arrived a few minutes later, and Frank and Eric were already standing on the curb waiting for him. Had Cas entered the house and met Alice, things would probably have turned out very differently. Had Cas been given the opportunity to read Alice's thoughts, a number of deaths could probably have been avoided.

Cas had finally shown up at the bunker, but first, he had popped home and done the entire grooming ritual again. He'd also had to conjure up some fresh flowers, because the ones he had left on the dining room table had wilted.

So he arrived freshly showered and coiffed, with a new application of cologne, bearing not two, but three flower arrangements. The third was an apology for being so late. But as soon as he'd told Gail and the Winchesters the reason for his being so tardy, they had completely understood, of course. Eric was now reunited with his brother, and he had been welcomed into Frank and Jody's home with open arms. Cas had popped back out before receiving Eric's reaction to the new accommodations, desperate to get to Gail before any more time had elapsed so that he could explain.

"So how do we do this, Cas?" Dean asked his friend.

"I'm really, really hoping the answer is for me to commit adultery with a certain blue-eyed deity," Gail piped up mischievously.

Cas's lips twitched. He had missed her quips. "As much as I would love to volunteer to be that deity, I'm afraid that's not the procedure," he remarked.

"Good," Dean wisecracked. "It would be bad for my reputation if you cheated on me."

"Well, we could just fight to the death, then, if you'd prefer," Cas deadpanned, shrugging.

"Ooooh, I might want to change my answer," Gail said pertly.

"Do I get a vote?" Sam joked.

Dean made a face, looking at Cas. "You see what I've had to put up with for the last six months?" he groused. "Take my wife, please."

But Gail didn't make a retort, because she had tuned out of the conversation for a moment. She had allowed herself to indulge in a fleeting fantasy of Cas fighting several bad guys to defend her. And for some reason, he was shirtless as he battled the faceless enemies, and the sweat was glistening on his torso as his muscles flexed...

"Huh? Pardon?" Gail said, realizing that Dean was talking now.

"Hey! Earth, to soon-to-be-former Mrs. Winchester!" Dean exclaimed. "You still with us, here?"

"Yeah. Sorry," she said, looking at Cas again. Not that that was difficult. He looked fantastic. His hair was perfect, he was wearing one of her favourite outfits on him, and even though she didn't mind a bit of stubble, she could see that he'd shaved so close that he even had a tiny razor nick on his chin. And, for the piece de resistance, he smelled amazing. If Gail had been a more cynical individual, she would almost have been inclined to believe that Cas and Frank had conspired to set up this morning's rescue mission for her benefit. Not only had Cas shown up here looking like this and smelling like that, but he was fresh from a heroic mission to rescue her family members from a bad guy. You couldn't script a better return than that. Her heart had already been full to bursting with love for Cas and excitement that her matrimonial side trip was finally over, but Cas had just upped the ante.

"If the two of you will come here and stand in front of me, with Sam as our witness, I will now dissolve your marriage," Cas said. Gail and Dean rose, and Cas took out his Angel blade and a vial of Holy Oil, which he handed to Sam.

"Uhhh...what are you gonna do with that blade there, Buddy?" Dean asked him warily.

"What, this?" Cas said off-handedly, brandishing the knife. "It's for the purity test."

"For the what, now?" Dean said with narrowed eyes.

"The purity test, Dean," Cas repeated patiently. "I'll need a drop of your blood, and one of Gail's, and then I will have each of you touch the blade. If you have both been faithful to each other for the entire term of your marriage, the blade will absorb the blood, and remain pristine. But if one or both of you have committed adultery, the blood will remain on the surface of the blade, and the annulment will not proceed."

Gail held up her hand. "Wait a minute. What do you mean, it won't proceed?"

"Just what I said," Cas told her. "That was why it was so important for the two of you to remain faithful within your marriage. If the annulment does not proceed, you and Dean will remain married to each other, and you and I can never be together."

"You didn't tell us that!" Dean exclaimed.

Cas was puzzled. "Of course I did, Dean. I said that Gail and I couldn't be together, don't you remember? She would remain married to you, and I could never even consider - "

Gail was glaring at Dean now. "You'd better not have messed this up for me, or you're going to have the worst shrew of a wife you could ever imagine," she said, tight-lipped.

"Yeah? What about you and Mr. Dreamboat here?" Dean retorted, indicating Cas. "I've seen the way you were looking at him in New Orleans, and in Vancouver, and at the movie premiere. And Sammy and I were on the road a lot."

"Guys, guys," Sam broke in. "Do you really want to ruin Divorce Day by fighting?"

They all looked at him, and then Gail and Dean began to laugh. She put her hand on the younger Winchester's arm. "Thanks, Sam. We needed that," Gail said, still smiling. She extended her hand to Cas. "Go ahead, sweetie. You know I'm going to pass."

Dean held out his hand, too. "Well, so am I," he stated. "I would never do that to you guys."

Cas touched Gail's finger gently with the tip of his blade, just enough to break the skin. Then he did the same to Dean, and then the two of them touched the surface of the blade. Their blood bloomed red for a moment, and then it disappeared.

Cas smiled. He'd known that there would be nothing to worry about from Gail's standpoint, but a small part of him had been concerned about Dean. Cas had to give his friend his due, though. Dean obviously had too much love and loyalty for both Cas and Gail to have made such a grevious mistake.

He put his blade away and asked Sam to hand him the vial of Holy Oil. "Now, you will anoint each other's foreheads and Gail will remove her ring, and then your marriage will be annulled."

"That's it? Really?" Dean said, his expression brightening.

"Really," Cas confirmed. He handed the vial to Gail, who took out the stopper and put some oil on her fingers, as if she were about to apply sunscreen.

"Wait," Dean said, and she looked at him questioningly. "I just wanted to tell you that it's been a privilege, being married to you," he told her. She waited for the wisecrack, but to her surprise, none was forthcoming. Gail smiled warmly at her friend as Dean bent down so that she could anoint his forehead. Then she handed the vial to him and he did the same to her.

She removed the ring from her finger, handing it to Dean. "Thanks for the loan," Gail said softly. "It was an honour to wear your mother's ring. I hope some lucky girl gets to wear it for real some day."

Dean pulled Gail to him for a hug, and then they both looked at Cas. "Your marriage is officially annulled," he told them.

VIGNETTE - HELLO, AND GOODBYE

Gail and Frank had put their heads together and decided to throw a party that was a combination of celebrations. They were calling it "Hello, and Goodbye". The first part was to welcome Eric's arrival, and the second was a humorous reference to Gail and Dean's annulment.

She'd had a surprise in store, though, when Cas informed her that he'd moved his belongings out of their house on Earth right after he'd changed to come to the bunker, and he'd also provided her with a large suite of her own in Heaven.

Immediately following the annulment, Cas had winked her over to the house on Earth for a private chat. He'd invited her to sit down on the couch with him, so that he could inform her why he had done what he had done.

As they sat down together, Cas reached his arms out towards her. "May I?" he asked softly.

"Are you kidding? I thought you'd never ask," Gail said, smiling.

He cuddled her for a few minutes, and when they broke the embrace, Cas took her hands in his. "I may have missed this most of all," he told her, caressing the backs of her hands with his thumbs. "So simple, yet so intimate."

Oh, boy. He was killing her. She gave his hands a gentle squeeze. "I missed you so much," she said to him.

"And I missed you just as much," Cas replied. "But, I intend to go about this the right way. It occurred to me during the many, many hours we were apart that I had at my disposal that I never really courted you. I want us to go out on dates, and enjoy each other's company. Then, when a suitable time has elapsed, I plan to propose to you again. That is why I've set us up in separate residences, for the time being."

Gail was equally charmed and chagrined. She'd had visions of this moment with Cas, but her fantasy had involved a little less discussion, and a lot fewer clothes. But she knew how Cas was by now, and so she knew how important this kind of thing was to him. That was what she got for falling in love with a guy who had been around since the Dawn of Time.

Cas saw the look on her face, and he was tempted to just forget his resolve and take her in his arms right now. Gail was not the only one who had missed their intimate time together. But that wouldn't be right. They were starting over, and Gail deserved to be romanced.

But he wasn't made of stone, either. "May I kiss you, please?" Cas asked her. "Just one really good kiss, to last until our next date."

Then she finally touched his face, and he nuzzled her palm with his cheek. Then his lips brushed her hand lightly, and Gail felt like she was going to slide right off the couch. He took her in his arms and kissed her on the mouth, softly at first, and then more ardently. She let him take the lead, sighing contentedly. He touched her lips with his tongue and she opened her mouth to him.

They kissed for a while, and then he reluctantly pulled away from her. That would have to do for now.

So that had been their first physical contact since before the New Year had begun, and it was now July. Gail was back in Heaven now for the most part, but she did occasionally spend some time at their house on Earth. The day of the party, she'd gone there to change into shorts and a T-shirt. Outfits like that were unnecessary in Heaven, since the temperature never varied there. But the weather was very hot on Earth right now, and Frank was having an outdoor barbecue party.

There was a knock at the front door, and Gail smiled. Cas insisted on knocking, at any residence she happened to be at the time. She opened the door. "Are you ready to go?" he asked her, offering his arm. Gosh, he was cute.

Cas winked the both of them over to Frank's house, handing the bottle of wine he'd brought to Jody. Initially, Gail had thought that Cas was going a little overboard with the old-fashioned way he was behaving, but now, it was kind of growing on her.

They were in the back yard at Frank and Jody's place, bantering back and forth as Frank tended the grill. Jody was bouncing Angela on her lap, watching as Rob and Eric shuttled from the house to the yard, carrying paper plates, buns, condiments and beers.

"And they say you can't get good help these days," Sam wisecracked.

Jody grinned. "I'm just training them properly for future relationships."

Cas bent down and tickled Angela's cheek. The infant laughed and said, "Cas!" Cas smiled. He never tired of that.

"Show Cas and Gail what she can do," Frank said to his wife.

"Walk about ten steps away from me, over there," Jody instructed Cas. Gail sat down at the picnic table beside Dean, who was waiting as patiently as he could for a burger. "Hey, where's my alimony cheque?" Gail teased Dean, poking him. He rolled his eyes.

Jody put Angela down on the grass. "Crouch down, and call her to you," Jody said to Cas. He did as she said, and Angela raised herself up and ran to him, motoring her chubby little legs. She fell down on the way, looking surprised, but she didn't cry. She merely stood up and started to toddle again.

When she reached Cas, he swept the baby up in his arms. "Good for you, Angela," Cas said to her, kissing her gently on the forehead. "That's a very big accomplishment."

"We'll be teaching her how to read, soon," Frank said proudly. "She's sure smart enough. We've been showing her cartoons, and she'll point at the TV screen and say the characters' names," Frank bragged.

"Big deal. Dean does the same thing," Sam quipped, and Frank and Gail laughed. Dean raised his hand in the air, showing his brother three fingers. "Read between the lines," he said to Sam.

Frank smirked. "Thanks for the edit," he said to Dean. "Angela's entering her copycat years now. We really don't need her flashing her teacher the finger, if we decide to enroll her in pre-school."

"OK, so we shouldn't show her that Sesame Street episode that's brought to you by the letters 'F' and 'O', then?" Gail said sassily, and Dean extended his hand to her for a high-five.

"Good one, Aunt Gail," Rob commented. "But seriously, so far, her favourite movie is Snow White. Remember that one?"

"Of course I do," Gail responded.

"Dwarf!" Angela gurgled happily.

Jody shook her head slowly. "I'm sure that'll go over big at the pre-school. It's not exactly politically correct."

"Since when is this a politically correct family?" Frank asked her, making a face. "They really go overboard with that stuff. It's an old movie, Jodes."

"Hey, Frank, if you were a Dwarf, which one would you be?" Eric asked Gail's brother, handing him a beer.

"I call Dopey," Gail teased her brother.

Frank gave her a baleful glance. "Hey, considering you're four feet nothing, you would know a lot about being a dwarf, wouldn't you?" He thought a moment. "There's no law that says we've gotta go by the existing names, is there? OK, I'll be Stabby. How's that?" He brandished the barbecue tongs.

"And Sam can be Doc, because he's the smart one," Gail said, smiling.

"Cas can be Bashful," Sam chipped in, as Cas sat down in a lawn chair, still cradling Angela.

"OK, well, Dopey is still up for grabs," Gail said, poking Dean again. "Or you could be Grumpy, especially in the morning, before you've had your coffee."

"So, I guess it's true, what they say about ex-wives," Dean said pointedly.

"How about Farty, if we're making up names?" Frank said helpfully.

"Now, THERE'S a name for Sammy," Dean said, nodding.

Later, when the humans sat down to eat, Frank stood with his beer bottle in his hand. "I just wanted to formally welcome Eric to the family," he announced. "You know, family is love, but it's also commitment. It means showing up when they need you the most. Cas showed up for us big time in Florida, and now Eric is here with us. Family means having each other's backs. We rag on each other all the time, but I've never loved a group of people more in my life. Family means choosing to love each other, even on those days when you struggle to like each other. It means never giving up on each other. Never. Welcome to the family, Eric." He lifted his beer, and everyone toasted. "Oh, and good riddance to Dean," Frank said, smirking. "God's a much better brother-in-law than you, anyway."

"Hey! What happened to all that 'I love you guys' stuff?" Dean objected. "I was actually about to tell Jody she should cut you off."

"Grab your toolbox, and build me an annex to my house in fifteen minutes," Frank shot back. "Smite a crime boss, and vapourize his stooges' weapons. Set Eric up with a bank account of his own without telling anybody. Then you'll be in the running."

Cas smiled modestly. "Thank you, Frank. But Dean performed a very important task, as well. Had he not married Gail, I would not be in a position to be your brother-in-law again, in the future. The decision will be your sister's, of course, but I will be making a strong case to her, I promise." He took Gail's hand, and they smiled at each other.

"Did you hear that, Frank? I'm a hero for marrying your sister," Dean smirked.

"Do you think you could make me sound a little less like a charity case?" Gail said, annoyed.

"In the interests of peace and love, and the fact that the food's getting cold, I'll ignore all the great jokes that are floating around in my head about that subject right now," Frank said. He sat down and started spooning potato salad onto his plate.

"Of course they're floating around. There's nothing but empty space in there," Gail said tartly, and everyone laughed, including Frank.

Jody was feeding Angela tiny spoonfuls of pureed food now. "Are you guys done bottle-feeding her?" Sam asked her. Jody nodded. "Yeah, pretty much," she replied. "And we've already started toilet-training her, too."

"Don't do that," Dean said around a mouthful of burger. "Don't be those parents who talk about your kids' bathroom stuff when we're eating."

"Aww, geez. And I was about to ask Rob if he was staying regular," Frank wisecracked.

The humans ate in silence for a few moments, and then Frank looked at Dean again, his expression serious this time. "Sorry, buddy, but I have to ask about the elephant," Gail's brother said in a more subdued tone.

"Elephant!" Angela said suddenly, making the adults smile. "That's one of her new words," Jody told everyone. "She likes that one, 'cause it's her dad's."

"What's the elephant?" Dean asked Frank.

"How come Nicole's not here with you?" Gail's brother inquired.

Dean let out a frustrated breath. "She's packing. That's why."

"What? Why?" Gail exclaimed.

"She's gonna be helping Richard, scouting locations for the next movie," Dean said glumly.

Gail and Cas exchanged glances. "We're sorry, Dean," Cas said in a quiet voice. "You could have been together, this whole time."

Dean shrugged. "Don't worry about it. We'll manage. We always have. She likes to travel, and Sammy and I have been going on more road trips, anyway."

But Gail felt terrible. She was sure that Dean was putting on a front, now. If she was in his shoes, she would be pretty upset about this whole thing. But she supposed his relationship was none of her business. She had her own to worry about. She gave Cas's hand a gentle squeeze.

After everyone ate, it was Angela's bedtime. Eric and Rob started to clean up, and Frank picked his daughter up. "Who wants to come inside for storytime?" he asked. "We tell Angela a story every night, and we act out the parts. Apparently, that's supposed to stimulate her imagination, and improve her vocabulary."

"Well, look at you, being all 'Parenting Magazine'," Gail teased her brother gently. "Sure we'll come." She grabbed Dean by the sleeve and tugged. "You can do some more accents, like you did last Christmas."

"I think we'll do Robin Hood tonight," Frank said, smiling. "Lots of different speaking roles there. Come on, you guys," he said to Rob and Eric. "We'll clean up later."

They all settled in the living room. "Ok; Robin Hood. Who's gonna play him? I guess it should be Cas, and then Gail can be Maid Marian," Frank said. "You guys can be the Merry Men."

"Give me a second to get a little bit more merry," Dean quipped, moving to the bar in the corner of the room.

"Sorry, Cas, but I'm switching it up," Jody said, plopping down in a chair. "Tonight, Maid Marian is going to be the heroine. We want to teach Angela about strong female role models, too. When she gets a little older, I'm going to make sure she watches Wonder Woman, and Supergirl. So, if Aunt Gail will be Marian, she can save Cas as Robin Hood from the evil clutches of the Sheriff of Nottingham. You want to take that one, Dean? You can use your English accent."

"But, his English accent is atrocious," Sam pointed out.

"No, it's not, guv'nor," Dean said, in an atrocious English accent.

Everyone laughed, and Dean bristled. "What?" he protested. "That's a good accent!"

"Dean!" Angela said happily, clapping her hands together.

"See? She likes it," he said, gesturing. "OK, Angela. I'll do it for you. Ignore them. They're just being mean."

They all started to make up a story in which the Sheriff of Nottingham came to Sherwood Forest to menace the heroes. But then Dean started to become worried that Angela would think he was a bad guy, so he also started doing the part of one of the Merry Men, switching accents back and forth. As the story developed, his alleged English accent worsened, and Gail was laughing delightedly.

"What's that, Sheriff? It sounds like you're both English and Jamaican, at the same time!" she exclaimed.

"Never mind, Marian, you'd better grab your bow and arrow, 'cause here I come, with me Lucky Charms," Dean said, inexplicably morphing into an Irish accent.

"OK, what does that even MEAN?" Gail said, throwing her hands up in frustration. She was still laughing.

"Oh please, Marian, my love, protect me from the evil Sheriff of indeterminate ethnic origin," Cas said, sending everyone into bursts of laughter.

"This might have been a bad idea," Frank remarked. "I think the kid's actually more wide awake, now. This is a little too entertaining."

But after another ten minutes or so, Angela started to stretch and yawn in her father's arms, and her eyelids began to droop. The group carried on for a bit, lowering their voices until she was fast asleep. Then Frank carried her quietly to her room.

A short while later, the party broke up, and Cas escorted Gail to her suite in Heaven.

"I had a very good time tonight," Cas told her. "I hope you did, too."

"I did," she said, smiling up at him. "Do you want to come in for a while?"

"Yes, I would like that," he replied.

They sat down on the couch, and Gail shook her head slowly. "This is so weird," she said to Cas. "I'm not used to dating you. I miss you so much, when you leave."

"I know. I miss you, too," Cas agreed. He was looking at her face now, and she was giving him the doe eyes. Why was he doing this to himself? Hadn't they been apart long enough? They had made love before, when they had been unmarried. What was different this time? They were holding hands, and the backs of Cas's hands were resting lightly on Gail's bare thighs. She looked so cute in her T-shirt and shorts, and her skin was so soft. He let go of her hands and touched her legs, lightly caressing them.

"Please, Cas, you're driving me nuts," she said.

He was driving himself nuts, now. Why had he decided to touch her like this? She had her hands around his neck, and she was inching closer to him on the couch. Cas's hands moved around her waist and suddenly, he was kissing her on the mouth. She gave him her tongue, and his hands went under her T-shirt. He'd almost forgotten how soft her skin was, and how good their bodies fit together. Oh, great. Now he was thinking about their bodies. She had her hands under his shirt now, and she was caressing his torso. Cas moaned softly. He broke the kiss to speak, intending to either tell her they needed to stop immediately, or to ask her if he could make love to her, again and again and again, until they were both too tired to move...

And then came the knock on the door.

Dammit! Gail thought. They'd just been getting somewhere, too. In another moment or so, Cas would have caved. She knew he would have. What rotten timing. She looked at Cas apologetically, and smoothed her clothes back into place.

It was Linda. "Can I talk to you for a minute, Gail?"

Gail sighed. "Sure, I guess so. Come on in."

Linda entered the suite, stopping short when she saw Cas. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said awkwardly. "Am I interrupting something?"

Yes, Cas thought. "No," he said to her, rising from the couch. But he left his shirt untucked, and he turned his body slightly to the side. "I was just leaving."

Linda lifted an eyebrow. How naive did he think she was? "I'm sorry," she said again. "I could come back...later."

"No, it's all right," Cas said quickly. "I'll see you in the morning, my love," he said to Gail, and then he winked out.

"What do you want, Linda?" Gail asked the woman, perhaps more sharply than she had intended. Then she sighed again. "I didn't mean it that way," Gail said to her. "Come in, and sit down. What's on your mind?"

"Kevin is driving me up the wall," Linda said without preliminary. "I wonder if you could have a talk with him."

"Me?" Gail asked, puzzled. "Why me? What's he doing?"

"Every time I want to spend some time alone with Paul, Kevin shows up," Linda complained. "I can't remember the last time that Paul and I were able to...you know, be alone, without being interrupted."

Gail looked at her. Linda had to be kidding with this. "You're aware of the irony of what you're saying right now, I trust," she said dryly.

"OK," Linda acknowledged, "but I'm talking about every time. Every. Darn. Time."

Gail sighed again. At this rate, she was going for the record. "What do you want me to say to him, Linda? Or, better still, to reiterate: Why me? Why not Cas, or Bobby?"

But Linda was shaking her head. "No. They're authority figures to him. I don't want him to feel like he's doing anything wrong. I just want him to ease up a little. I get the feeling he doesn't approve of my relationship with Paul, and this is his way of trying to make sure we're not - you know - intimate."

Well then, he should come over here, Gail thought, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. "OK, Linda," she said, determined not to sigh yet again. "I'll tell him to leave you guys alone. Maybe I'll give him a project to do, to keep him busy. You know what? We should actually be working on translating the writing on those Tablets. Sam's got the pictures on his computer. I'll ask him to e-mail them to Kevin, and tell Kevin we need to know what's on them. And I won't even be making that up. We should actually have done it a long time ago." Gail was thinking of the mark that Crowley had put on her, now. They had recognized the symbol from the Hell Tablet, but they'd been unsure of the exact significance of it. Maybe, if they knew what the Tablet had said, it would have specified what it was. These kinds of things would be helpful to know. Come to think of it, there might even be something on the Tablets about the Books. It wasn't outside the realm of possibility. Maybe the information had been under their noses this whole time. She would have to talk to Cas about that in the morning. This could be just the break they'd needed.


	6. Mad Dogs And Englishmen

Chapter 6 - Mad Dogs And Englishmen

So Gail talked to Cas about it in the morning, and the two of them got Kevin set up with the pictures of the Tablets on his computer. There was no mention of Linda. While she could completely sympathize with Kevin's mother's situation, Gail wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea of talking to Kevin about such a delicate subject. So she told Cas about her conversation with Linda, but the couple approached Kevin on the basis of needing his assistance to decipher the language on the Tablets. Then, Gail appointed a young Angel named Jenny to take Kevin's place on the Suicide Board.

Cas's cell phone rang just as they were leaving Kevin's office, and it was Sam.

"I just got a really weird phone call," he told Cas. "It concerns Gail. Is she with you?"

"Yes, Sam. Just a moment." Cas winked them to his office and put his phone on Speaker.

"A guy with an English accent called here, looking for Gail," Sam told them.

Her stomach fluttered for a moment. The only man she knew who had an English accent was Crowley. Unless she counted Dean's pathetic attempts at one.

"Did he say who he was, or what he wanted with me?" she asked Sam.

"He said his name was Dr. Carstairs. He said he's your Uncle Andy's psychiatrist. Apparently, your uncle says he needs to see you, and it's urgent. It's about Vincent."

It hadn't taken much effort on her part, really. All Abigail had had to do was cut herself, and put a few drops of blood in the bowl. She'd learned a few tricks from watching Vincent over the years. A couple more ingredients, and then a drop of her precious youth elixir, and the smoke that was produced from dropping a lit match in the bowl gave her the vision she'd needed. She'd been too late to see her daughter, who had moved back to Heaven by then. But Abigail saw Sam and Dean, the location of the bunker, and both Sam's and Dean's cell phone numbers, which she quickly jotted down before the vision faded.

It had taken a bit of doing, but Gail's mother had finally received Andy's reluctant agreement to help Gail and her group track Vincent down. But Andy's lucid periods came and went, and he was extremely skittish due to his terror of his brother, so time was of the essence. Once Abigail had the Winchesters' information, she'd slipped the phone numbers to Andy on her next visit and told him to tell Dr. Carstairs he needed to see his niece.

That was what had prompted the call from Andy's doctor to Sam's cell phone. The hospital didn't let the higher-risk patients make calls to people on the outside; it was just too chancy. But Andy had been agitated, pleading that he had to see his niece, her husband, and Sam and Dean Winchester. It had to be all four of them, all at once.

Dr. Carstairs had been mystified. All these years, and Andy had never mentioned any of those people. Why this sudden desire to see his niece? His patient was evasive. Andy had mumbled something about doing some soul-searching and realizing that family was important, but Dr. Carstairs was skeptical. Andy had always been a very insular fellow. When he was having a good day, Andy joked that the voices in his head were enough to keep him company. But when he was having a bad day, he would rant and rave out loud, tearing at his hair until it was standing on end like a mad professor's. Shouting that he didn't want to hurt, or to kill.

But most of the time, Andy was sort of in-between. Dr. Carstairs was a fan of American cinema, and he had once seen a film called Man On The Moon. It was about the eccentric comedian called, funnily enough, Andy Kaufman. The Andy in the film had kind of reminded the doctor of his patient, in some ways. Both Andys had that faraway look, as if they were listening to a radio station in their heads, one that no one else could hear. If Andy the patient had been a little less schizophrenic, he would probably just have been deemed as eccentric and left-of-centre as his film namesake. However, Dr. Carstairs knew that to view the man as a harmless nut would be a grave mistake. The doctor had been in the psychiatric profession for a couple of decades now, and so he was well aware that it was inadvisable to underestimate just how unstable a mental patient could be. About a dozen years ago, he'd been having a session with one of his regular patients that had started out with the two of them chatting pleasantly, but ended with the man beating the doctor to a bloody pulp. Thankfully, hospital security had saved him from even worse, but his jaw still hurt on rainy days.

Still, this was the first time that Andy had ever reached out, so Dr. Carstairs thought that it was worth pursuing. So he had taken the slip of paper from Andy and called the first number on it, which happened to be Sam's cell phone. Then, Sam had called Cas.

It was puzzling to Gail. Why would Vincent's crazy brother be calling her now? She knew of him, of course, from Oliver's journal. But she didn't know him, and she wasn't sure that she wanted to. What Vincent had done to Andy when they were kids had been terrible, but that had been many years ago, now. Nobody stayed in a mental hospital for that long if they were totally sane. But on the other hand, with Vincent as a brother, Gail could certainly understand there would be challenges.

The timing couldn't have been better, though, in a way. Gail had been planning to talk to Cas about being more proactive when it came to finding their enemies, and locating the Books. Maybe Andy could help her to find Vincent. His request to include Sam and Dean in the visit was odd, though. What could he want to talk to THEM about?

Gail had returned Dr. Carstairs' call, and she'd made arrangements for the four of them to visit Andy the following afternoon. She'd had to resist the impulse to go immediately after they'd talked. There was no way they could have made it so soon, using human means.

So the four of them got into the Impala and drove to the sanitarium. How good it was to be sitting next to Cas in the back seat again. They held hands for the entire trip, chatting companionably with the brothers.

When they pulled up to the place, Gail's jaw dropped. There was a security booth where they had to give their names, the name of the patient that they were seeing, and the psychiatrist who was their contact. Then, the guard took photos of the car's license plate, and of all four of them. Then he called over to the facility, verifying that they were expected, and only then were they allowed to proceed.

"Geez, this place has more security than Area 51," Dean grumbled. He drove up the laneway, following the curve. A minute later, the sanitarium became visible through the trees. It was a huge building, and the grounds behind it were sprawling. Once they got to the steps for the front entrance, a tall, thin man with a neatly trimmed moustache met them there.

"Hello. I'm Dr. Carstairs," he told them.

Perhaps unnecessarily, Gail introduced herself. After all, she was the only female in the group. But she was a little intimidated by the surroundings. This place was a lot fancier than she had been expecting. Apparently, Andy had been a resident here for quite a few years now. But, who was footing the bill for his stay?

After the introductions were performed, the doctor asked Dean for the keys to his car. Gail had to bite the insides of her cheek to keep herself from laughing out loud at the expression on Dean's face. He probably looked less horrified when he was chopping heads off at a vampire's nest.

"Uhhhh...I don't think so, Downtown Abbey," Dean said sarcastically, no doubt referring to the doctor's British accent. He was probably jealous, Gail thought with amusement. But she was trying to keep a straight face. This looked like a serious place, and Dr. Carstairs looked like a serious man. "I'll park it myself," Dean continued. "Just show me where."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Winchester, but we don't allow visitors unsupervised access to the property," the doctor said in a grave tone.

"I'm not talking about roaming around the place, I'm talking about - "

"Do you like films, Mr. Winchester?" the doctor interrupted in a clipped tone.

"Huh? What? Yeah, I like movies," Dean replied, puzzled by the question.

"Imagine that you are in 'Silence Of The Lambs', and around every corner is a Hannibal Lecter, just waiting to eat your liver with some fava beans, and a nice chianti," Dr. Carstairs said bluntly. "We have some patients here who would make Dr. Lecter seem like a child, in Kindergarten."

While all four of them tried to reconcile what the psychiatrist was saying with the posh surroundings, a young orderly approached them. "Keys, Sir?" he said to Dean. holding out his hand. Dean gave up, handing them over. But his eyes followed the young man down the steps to the Impala and around the corner, until the car was out of sight. Gail fought the urge to laugh again.

Dr. Carstairs escorted them into the main building and through a labyrinth of corridors to the area where the visiting rooms were. "I'm sorry, but you'll all have to be searched before you go in," he told them. Wow, Gail thought. Her stomach was starting to churn now. How crazy WAS Andy, anyway? And how dangerous?

The orderly who was standing on guard outside the room frisked the men, and then he looked down at Gail uncertainly. "No exceptions," Dr. Carstairs said shortly. Gail looked up at the orderly. He was a huge man, with big paws for hands. Another laugh bubbled up in her throat. Her mind flashed back to Aslaf, the security guard in Romania. She'd better not look at Dean right now, or she would pee herself laughing. Well, metaphorically speaking, of course.

"Stretch your arms out at your sides, and stand with your legs slightly apart," Cas said softly, reading her confusion. He was frowning, but he understood the need to check all of them for weapons in a place like this. They hadn't brought any, of course. But if the patients that were being held here were as unbalanced as the doctor was suggesting, it was best to make sure, wasn't it? Now Cas was growing apprehensive, too. Clearly, Andy was just a mortal; otherwise, they would not have been able to hold him. But that did not mean that he wasn't dangerous.

The guard gave Gail a quick pat-down, and then Dr. Carstairs said, "Andy is already in the room. Our policy is to allow private visits with family members, until and unless we are given a reason to curtail them. This is an unusual situation, to say the least. He has specifically requested the four of you to come, and I have decided to permit it, because I'd like to find out why. But, I will warn you one more time: if there is anything amiss, or any sort of incident at all, this visit will conclude immediately. Is that understood?"

The four of them nodded, exchanging glances. Then the doctor motioned to the orderly, who went to his belt for the key to unlock the door to the room.

Cas went in first, on high alert to protect Gail from a potentially raging homicidal maniac. But what he saw was an old man, sitting calmly at the other end of a long table. Sam followed Cas, then Gail, and then Dean.

Andy rose from his chair. Curiously, for a man with all of those dire warnings being issued on his behalf, he was not chained, or shackled. But Cas remained tense, ready to spring into action if necessary.

Gail's uncle was looking curiously at her now. She was smaller than he had expected, and her eyes were as big as saucers. Carstairs must have given them his Silence of the Lambs speech. She did have her father's dark looks, though, and as Andy looked at her companions, he noted that the men were all big, and extremely good-looking. Yes, she was her father's daughter, all right.

Gail was looking back at Andy, and her first reaction had also been one of surprise. She had been expecting a younger man, for some reason. Cathy, Abigail, and Vincent himself all appeared much younger than they should be, chronologically speaking. But Andy was an old man, with white hair, a pale complexion, and a round, doughy physique. But then again, Oliver had been an old man too, hadn't he? Apparently, Vincent only kept women youthful.

Andy came forward, extending his hand. Cas instinctively moved closer to Gail, prompting Andy to smile. Yes, definitely 'Silence Of The Lambs'. "I take it you're Cas, then," Andy said mildly. "Don't worry; I'm not dangerous. Well, not today, anyway. I'm having a good day, today." He extended his hand to Cas to shake, and Cas took it cautiously.

Then Andy did the same with Gail. "You look like your father," he told her softly, still wearing that ghost of a smile. "I hope that doesn't offend you."

And then Andy shook with each of the Winchesters, calling them by name. "How do you know our names?" Cas asked Andy, his eyes narrowing.

Gail's uncle looked at his psychiatrist. "Can we have a private moment?" he asked the man.

Dr. Carstairs frowned briefly, but then he gave his patient a curt nod. "All right, Andy," he said. "But, Donald will be just outside." He and the orderly exchanged glances, and then they left the room, closing the door softly behind them.

"Please, have a seat," Andy said to his visitors, gesturing to the chairs around the table. Cas pulled out a chair for Gail at the opposite end of the table, and then the men all sat on either side of her, like an honour guard.

Andy smiled faintly, re-taking his seat. "Don't mind the esteemed doctor," he said mildly. "He watches too many movies."

"How do you know our names?" Sam said, echoing Cas's question of a moment ago. "Are you a psychic?"

Crap, Andy thought. He probably shouldn't have called them all by name. But Abigail had been insistent that all four of them should come, saying that all four had a part to play. He chuffed out a soft laugh now. "No, I'm not a psychic. Just a crazy person," he told them, avoiding the question.

"You don't seem that crazy to me," Dean remarked. "Now, your brother, on the other hand..."

Andy nodded. "I can't disagree with you, there," he said calmly.

"We read Oliver's journal," Gail said to her uncle. "We know you didn't kill that dog, Vincent did. So why have you been locked up here this whole time?"

Andy's hands curled into fists. She had no clue. If he wanted to, he could reach out right now and snap her neck like a twig. She had no idea what he was capable of. No, don't freak out, he lectured himself. They just got here. Did Andy want Donald to come in here and put him in that straitjacket again? That would make a nice first impression, wouldn't it? So he made his hands relax. "Reasons," he said tersely, in response to her question.

Gail was studying his face now. Andy didn't necessarily come across as crazy to her. Maybe he was just misunderstood. Maybe no one had ever cared enough, or taken the time to get to know Andy. To really listen to him.

"I hear voices," Andy said suddenly. "Almost constantly. They say I'm a paranoid schizophrenic. I agree that I'm paranoid. With Vincent as a brother, who wouldn't be? But, schizophrenic? I always thought the voices had to be made-up people. But some of them are very real. Vincent talks to me, a lot. He tells me I should hurt people." Somewhat shockingly, Andy began to cry. "I was out in the world for a while, you know. I have a house, and I had a job. I even dated a girl. But Vincent wanted me to hold those young girls prisoner, and hurt them. Part of me wanted to do it, too. So I called the authorities and told them to lock me up, before I could hurt anyone. Vincent didn't like that, but there was nothing he could do about it. Oliver moved to Canada because he was afraid of Vincent. And then Oliver got himself killed, and now he's talking to me, too. Sometimes I lay down at night and I can hear them both in my head, like the old cliche about a devil on one shoulder and an Angel on the other. Do bad. Do good. Then I start to scream, and then they come to my room with meds for me to take. But I don't take them, though. Oh, no. That would be just what they want. So I try to drown out the voices, by playing different songs in my head, or making up riddles. I like classic rock, and I used to be really smart, too. I used to do the Sunday crossword. In pen. But now, they won't let me have anything sharp to write with, because they're afraid I might cut somebody's throat with it. I probably would, too. I wish I wasn't so crazy. There was so much I could have done with my life."

Andy looked at Gail. "I always knew Vincent was evil, even when we were kids. I don't know if our parents knew, or if they were just too afraid to stand up to him. But it doesn't really matter now. He killed them, and Oliver is dead, and now, I'm the only one who's left alive. He could just come in here any time, or do one of his spells, and I would be dead, too. But he wants me alive for some reason, and he wants me crazy. Dr. Carstairs is right: I can't be trusted. That was probably why I was told to have all three of you men come here with Gail. A part of me really wants to hurt her."

"That would be your last act on this Earth," Cas said in his quiet voice. "Why did you ask her to come?"

"To help her find Vincent," Andy replied calmly, as if he had not just threatened to harm his niece. "He needs to be prevented from finding the Book of the Dead. If he gets his hands on it, he will unleash the worst kinds of monsters on the Earth. Horrible things. Unimaginable things."

"Yeah? Well, for us, that's a Tuesday," Dean said acidly. Like Cas, he hadn't been too impressed that Gail's uncle had just threatened her with bodily harm, and now, he was acting as if he hadn't even said it.

"You'll need to do a voodoo ritual in order to find Vincent," Andy told them. "You'll need an Angel's blood, and his brothers' bones." He smiled grimly. "I have one of my bones in a jar in my house that I've been saving all this time. It's from my body. I'd rather not say from where. I just had an impulse one day, and as it turned out, my impulse was right. But you'll need Oliver's bones, too. Once you have those things, come back and see me. I'll give you the address of my house. It may be a little messy, though. I haven't lived there in years." He frowned. "I can't remember where I put the jar, but it's in there, somewhere."

Gail felt compassion for her uncle. He kept saying how crazy he was, and Dr. Carstairs had acted like Andy was the most dangerous man on the planet. But he just seemed pathetic to her. "Would you like us to bring you anything from your house, when we come back?" she asked him. "Do you have a favourite possession, or a picture that you like, maybe?"

Andy's heart hurt when she said that, because she clearly didn't understand. Pictures were for people who had lives. What on earth would he have a picture OF?

She doesn't understand you, Vincent said in his head. She thinks you're a pathetic old man. They all do. They're just here to use you, to get to me. Look at her. She doesn't care about you. She's been out there, living the life of a Princess, while you've been rotting away in here, all these years. The only reason she's here talking to you now is that she wants something from you. After she gets it, she won't have anything to do with you, ever again. Look at her, Andy. Don't you hate her? She's having the life you could have had. The life you deserved.

"I need a pen," Andy said suddenly.

Sam reached into his pocket. He almost always kept a pen and paper on his person. You never knew when it might come in handy. He extended both to Andy, but now Oliver took over in Gail's uncle's head. He wasn't supposed to have a pen, Oliver said to Andy sternly. He knew that.

"Give it to Gail," Andy said to Sam. "I'll give her my address."

Gail jotted it down as Andy gave it to her, and then he said abruptly, "You'll have to go now. It's time for my meds."

The four of them rose, and there was an awkward moment when none of them knew what to do. Should they shake his hand and thank him? Should they express sympathy for his plight?

Gail tended towards the latter. Impulsively, she approached Andy and put her hand on his arm. "I'm sorry you're in here," she said softly. "But it was nice to meet you."

Andy was frozen. Speechless. She was looking up at him with those big brown eyes. She looked like her father, and a bit of her mother, but she looked like someone else, too: she looked like someone who actually gave a damn about him.

He grabbed her roughly and wrenched the pen she was still holding out of her hand. Then he spun her around and clutched her to him tightly, holding the pen by her face. "I could just jam this pen into your ear right now, and your vessel's brains would leak out before you had the chance to zap yourself away," Andy growled. "Do you think I don't know why you're really here? Or who and what you truly are? You want to destroy me? Well, bring it on, little girl. Get the bones and do your little ritual. I'll be waiting."

Then, as suddenly as Andy had grabbed Gail, he released her. "It was nice to meet you, too," he said pleasantly. "All of you." He looked at the pen in his hand, puzzled. "Where did this come from? I'm not supposed to have this. Here. You take it." He handed the pen to Cas, who had rushed forward when Andy had grabbed Gail. Cas nudged her behind him, now. "If you ever pull anything like that again, I will smite you into oblivion," Cas said to Andy quietly, and his eyes flashed bright blue for a moment. "Is that understood?"

Sam was watching Andy with narrowed eyes. How crazy WAS he, anyway? He acted as if he was unaware that he was saying and doing these things. But was he, really?

"Vincent will crucify you," Andy said to Cas.

"No; I will kill him," Cas said calmly. "Just so you are aware, I will do anything to protect Gail. Anything. Know that."

While Cas and Sam were having their staring contest with Andy, Gail was starting to shake from the fright of the sudden confrontation. "Let's go," she said, and Dean put his arm around her. "Yeah, c'mon, you guys. Let's go," Dean agreed.

The four of them left the room and the hospital without another word. Once they were back in the Impala and had safely left the sanitarium grounds, Dean glanced into the back seat. "Boy, Gail, it looks like you got all the sanity in your family," he remarked.

She made a face, but Gail appreciated his effort at bringing some levity into the situation. "So it's off to his house now, I guess," she said. "And then, I guess we'll have to go see Oliver. Are you going to be OK with that, Sam?"

The younger Winchester frowned. "I guess I'll have to be," he replied. "Regardless of what happened between us, Quinn wants Oliver out of her house, right? Well, this might just be the way to do it. If we find out where Oliver is buried, we can take a bone for the spell, and then burn the rest. Maybe THAT'S why he's been hanging around all this time. A part of him must have known we had unfinished business."

"That's if we believe Crazy Andy, of course," Dean said bluntly.

Sam shrugged. "I don't think we have any reason to doubt that he was telling the truth. It seems like he wants to get rid of Vincent as badly as we do."

Cas was cuddling Gail to him now. "Are you all right, my love?" he asked her. "I'm sorry. I had no idea he was going to do anything like that. I tried reading his thoughts, but they're all jumbled, sort of like changing from one radio station to another, to another, instantaneously. But I should have been more vigilant."

"Me too, Cas," Gail replied. "I let my guard down, too. I just felt so sorry for him, locked away in there all this time, alone and forgotten."

"There's a reason for that," Dean spoke up. "Guy's batcrap crazy. You be careful around him, Gail. He knows exactly what he's doing."

She thought about that. DID Andy know what he was doing? When he'd briefly been holding her hostage, he'd been talking like Vincent. Had her father possessed Andy, somehow? Was that even a thing? Or was she looking for a reason to absolve Andy of the blame, just because she felt so sorry for him?

"I've got the directions to Andy's house programmed into my phone," Sam announced. "How about if we get something to eat, and then we'll go there? I looked at the place on Google Earth. It shouldn't take too long to search a house that small."

Taking precautions so that they couldn't be observed, Cas popped all of them into the house. Dean had the Impala parked out front, but Andy hadn't given them a key. Perhaps he no longer had it. It was strange, though, how the house had just been sitting here empty all this time, as if it was waiting for Andy to come back.

Gail looked around, open-mouthed with astonishment. Had Andy said it "might be" a "little" messy here? The interior of the house looked like an advertisement for one of those shows about hoarders. Boxes, newspapers and magazines piled high, dirty dishes and food containers strewn around, and candy wrappers. Lots and lots of candy wrappers.

"Great. Just great," Dean grumbled. He had a high tolerance for filth, but this was ridiculous. He grabbed a box and opened the flaps, and a dust cloud rose, making him cough and wave his arms. He looked at Gail expectantly, but she shook her head. "Sorry, Dean. I don't have my blade with me, and I would need it for a job this big," she said with a half-shrug. "We didn't bring any weapons to the mental hospital, remember? Cas doesn't even have his."

"I should be able to do something about the dust, and the inevitable vermin excrement," Cas remarked, prompting a look of disgust from his companions. "Other than that, though, I'd better leave everything intact until we find the bone." He waved his hand, and the thick layers of dust were gone. "If you and Sam would like to start searching out here, Gail and I will begin in the other rooms."

The couple walked into what looked to be a spare room, and Gail shook her head slowly. Here too was total chaos, as if a rock group had trashed the place or something, she thought. If there was ever a metaphor for the apparently disordered state of Andy's mind, this house was it. She got down on her knees in the middle of the room. "I guess we'll start here, and work our way to the outside," she said to Cas, sighing. "Sort of like a really gross Tootsie Roll, in reverse."

Cas got down on the floor with her, and the two of them started picking up boxes and moving piles of newspapers to the side. But after they had worked away for a couple of minutes, Gail was starting to notice something. "Is everything you touch incredibly - " She showed Cas her hands.

" - Sticky," he finished, looking at his own hands. "Yes. Your uncle obviously had quite the sweet tooth."

Gail tried to wipe her hands on some of the newspapers, but now they were not only sticky, they were getting inky, too. She grabbed another box, but now, she felt like it was sticking to the skin on her hands. Yuk.

She'd finally had enough when she went to open the flap of the box and her hand got stuck on the cardboard. She ripped the flap open and peeled it off herself, fuming. "Oh, for Heaven's sake. This is stupid," she said, frustrated. Then she got up on her feet, holding her hands in front of her as if she was doing an imitation of Frankenstein's monster. "I'll be right back."

Gail marched to the front door of the house, past a puzzled pair of Winchesters, who were searching the living room area. She unlocked the door from the inside and grabbed the doorknob to open it. For a bad moment, she thought her hand wasn't going to come off the doorknob, once she'd gotten the door open. But she managed to peel her skin off the metal, with only a bit of pain and effort.

She hurried off the front porch and down the front walk to Baby. It was funny how they all referred to the Impala that way. Incredibly, Dean hadn't locked the car. For someone who loved his car so much, Dean never seemed to lock it when they went somewhere on a case, Gail thought. Weird. Maybe he thought that nobody would ever dare steal it. Actually, he might be right about that. They'd be fools to even try. Just imagine an angry Dean coming after a potential car thief with that kind of motivation, and a full array of weapons. She shuddered for a moment. It wouldn't be pretty.

Gail opened the front passenger seat door, rummaging around in the glove compartment. Bingo. Between Dean's predilection for fast food and Sam's fondness for cleanliness, she'd thought it was a pretty safe bet. She grabbed the stash of wet wipes, then closed the car door and went back up to the house.

Dean's head had snapped up when he'd heard the car door close, and Gail smiled at the expression on his face. "Don't worry, it was only me," she told him, showing him the wet wipes. Then she went back to where Cas was as the brothers exchanged a glance. Then they shrugged and went back to work.

"I'm gonna move some of those big piles of newspapers," Sam told Dean. "Some of them are almost as tall as me. I don't want to end up like the Collyer brothers."

"The who?" Dean asked, as he opened up another box. He rolled his eyes. Nothing but junk. Uncle Andy was really starting to get on his nerves.

"Homer and Langley Collyer," Sam replied. "Two brothers who lived in a Harlem brownstone. They were the epitome of hoarders. They were found dead in 1947, trapped underneath the rubble of so much junk that they had accumulated over the years. They found one of the brothers' bodies fairly quickly, but I think it took weeks to find the other one. I think he starved to death, if I remember correctly. The rats that lived there sure didn't, though."

Dean looked around nervously, remembering what Cas had said about vermin. "Here. Lemme help you with that," he said, lifting bundles of magazines and newspapers from on top of others. Sam grinned. He'd thought that would do the trick.

Suddenly, Gail came stalking out from the back rooms, like a woman on a mission. She strode past the brothers without saying a word, into the kitchen. There, using an old rag she'd found, she lifted a roll of paper towels from the counter. The man had paper towels, she thought with irritation. Why? It's not as if he'd ever cleaned anything in his life. Then she walked back to the spare room with them. Cas was sitting on the floor with the little stack of wet wipes in his lap. She'd instructed him not to let anything in the room touch them. As it was, everything was so sticky now that if they didn't do something soon, they were going to become part of the damn house.

She sat down beside Cas and took a few wet wipes from his lap. "Here, give me your hand," she said, ripping the packets open. She wiped his hand down with a couple of the moist towelettes, and then she did the other one. Cas was smiling now. He couldn't help it. Up until just recently they had been forced apart, unable to make even the most incidental bodily contact with each other. Now she had a hold of his hands, and she was meticulously cleaning them, dabbing delicately around his fingernails. He felt like closing his eyes in sheer bliss, but then he would have missed the sight of her paying such close attention to what she was doing. At one point, the tip of her tongue poked out from her lips, and Cas's pulse began to race. She was so cute, getting angry because their hands were so sticky. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, to be sure, but Cas had felt far worse. He was sure that Gail was merely venting now, displacing her real anger towards yet another family member who had treated her so shabbily.

Once Cas's hands were clean, he opened some more packets and did the same for her, paying as careful loving attention to cleaning Gail's hands as she had to his. But once hers were as clean as his, Cas raised them to his lips and gave each of her fingers a gentle kiss. Only then did Gail smile.

Then she looked down at the mess, sighing. "Don't do anything yet. I'll be back. Again," she said to him. She went back to the kitchen, looking around. Now that her hands weren't sticky any more, she started opening drawers and some of the lower cupboards, bracing herself for what she might find. But while she didn't encounter any rats or cockroaches, much to her relief, she didn't find what she was looking for, either. Two more drawers to go. She glanced uneasily at the higher cupboards. No. No freaking way. She could just picture opening one of those, and a nice big fat rat, plopping down onto her face. She shuddered. Yikes. Screw it. If they didn't find that jar soon, she was going to march back over there to that mental hospital with her blade and perform a little bone extraction herself. Was Andy even sure he HAD a jar with one of his bones in it in all this mess? Maybe one of his damn voices had just told him that he did.

She didn't find a jar with a bone in it in the next drawer, but miraculously, she came upon a small box containing those green garbage bags, which had actually been her hope when she had come in here. Good. This would help speed the process along. The house was really starting to give her the heebie-jeebies. Now she was thinking about spiders, too. Great. Thank goodness Cas had removed all the dust and the cobwebs from the place. If she felt a tickle in her hair right now, she would run out of the house screaming and hide in Baby's trunk until the men came out to get her.

Gail grabbed the box and hurried back through the living room to the spare room, as a bemused Sam and Dean watched. They didn't say anything, partly because they recognized that look on her face, and partly because they were finally making inroads on their own messy area.

"Here," Gail said to Cas. She handed him a big garbage bag, taking one for herself. "Take a couple of paper towels in each hand, pick up some junk, and pitch it into the bag. "We'll be able to tell pretty quickly if there's a jar in what we're grabbing. But we've got to cut a swath through this stuff, and if I touch one more gross, disgusting thing, I'm gonna lose it."

Cas nodded his approval. What she was saying actually made a lot of sense. "Agreed," he said.

After that, they made quick work of the spare room, and then they moved to the main bedroom and continued the process. Soon they were done there too, and as they placed the full garbage bags in the corner of the room, Gail sighed in frustration. "Well, I think he owes us a deep cleaning fee. But I hope Sam and Dean have better luck out there. What do you think, Cas? Do you think he sent us here on a wild goose chase? But, what would be the point of that?"

She looked so bewildered, and truthfully, Cas was mystified, too. He didn't believe Andy had been leading them down the garden path on purpose, but perhaps the man had dreamed up the whole thing. He glanced down at the bed. The bedspread looked reasonably clean, so he sat down on it and gently pulled Gail onto his lap.

"Maybe we should find out how he got everything so sticky, and apply that same substance to our lips," Cas said lightly, trying to cheer her. "I could happily live the rest of my existence with your lips attached to mine like that."

Gail laughed, and Cas started to kiss her face. He kissed her forehead, then her cheeks, and then her nose, and she was giggling now. Gail wasn't generally a giggly woman, but she was just so happy to be back with Cas like this. After the longest six months of her life, it was like they'd never been apart now. He was being his usual, considerate self, trying to buoy her spirits.

She gestured to him, and then to herself. "See this, right here? This is why we make everybody sick, sometimes," she said to Cas, but she was starting to plant little kisses on his face anyway, just like he was doing to her.

Cas stopped what he was doing for a moment, considering what she was saying. "Then, should we stop?" he said, straight-faced. "Or do you care about what the others think?"

"Oh, God, no," Gail said, smiling slyly. "Of course not. We're not going to stop. We're never going to stop. If they don't like it, too bad for them."

"You've said many intelligent things in your existence, but I believe that might be your smartest statement yet," Cas remarked, answering her smile. Then he touched her cheek with his finger, stroking it gently. "I love you, my darling. I will never stop showing it." He kissed her on the mouth, opening her lips with his tongue. Gail's hands went to his hair, and as the kiss deepened and she pressed his face closer to hers, Cas's hair began to get that tousled look.

"Awww, geez," Dean said dryly. He was standing in the doorway of the bedroom, rolling his eyes. "Surprise, surprise. You two found the only clean spot in this whole house to get busy in. It's a good thing we're not still married, Mrs. Winchester, or you would be in soooo much trouble right now."

The couple broke the kiss, and Gail laughed. "Way to ruin the moment, Dean," she told him.

"If you would like, I could take you to wherever Nicole is, after this," Cas offered. He still felt badly about the fact that his and Gail's circumstance had kept the two of them apart for that long. And then, when Dean had finally been free to reunite with Nicole, she had apparently informed him that she was going to travel again.

"No need," Dean said happily. "That's what I came here to tell you. After we help you out here and get Baby home, I was gonna have you go and get Nicole. She called, and said she told Richard she's changed her mind. So she's coming to the bunker to stay for a while."

"Oh, Dean, that's great!" Gail enthused. She too had been feeling very guilty about what her marriage to Dean might have done to his and Nicole's relationship. Nicole had said that she was over it, but then she'd volunteered to go location scouting for the next movie, just when Dean had become available. That didn't sound to Gail like someone who was over it. Here she was in Cas's lap, and Nicole was going to be halfway across the world somewhere. But now, it seemed like she had changed her mind, and Gail couldn't be happier about that.

She stood from Cas's lap. "Find anything?" Dean asked them. Gail shook her head. "No. Just garbage. Lots and lots of sticky garbage. You?"

Dean frowned. "Nahhh. Just piles of old newspapers and magazines, and boxes of old junk. It's a good thing you did your thing, though, Cas, or we'd be disinfecting for a week when we got home. Sam's in the kitchen now, but that's pretty much it. I think Crazy Andy imagined the whole thing. Maybe he had too many chicken wings one night, or something."

But before Dean got the chance to elaborate on that fairly odd statement, Sam shouted from the other room. "Got it!"

They all rushed towards the sound of his voice. He was standing in the living room, holding a small mason jar in his hand. "'Bone of an uncle, freely given'," Sam said with a smile, paraphrasing a line from their boy wizard movies.

Gail smiled back, letting out a relieved breath. Thank goodness this hadn't all been for nothing. "Where did you find it?" she asked Sam.

He pointed. "I stuck my arm up the chimney," Sam told her. "Anybody with a shorter arm would never have found it. He had it duct-taped to the brick. Maybe that's why I was supposed to come."

Cas was startled. He had actually been wondering again how Andy had known all of their names, and why he had specifically requested the Winchesters' presence at their meeting. When they had posed the question, Andy had sidestepped it rather neatly. Now Cas was wondering if Andy was really the one who was behind this mission, or if someone else was pulling the strings. It had also occurred to Cas to wonder who was paying for Andy's long-term care. For that matter, who was paying the mortgage on this house? The interior was in complete disarray, but now that Cas thought about it, the lawn and bushes outside the house had been neatly trimmed, and there had been no newspapers on the porch, or overflowing mailbox. Curious.

"All right; let's leave this place," Cas said to the group. "Thank you, Sam. Gail and I can go see Quinn, if you want. You don't need to come."

"No, I want to come," Sam said earnestly. "I feel like I owe her another apology. Besides, I'm invested. I kinda want to see how this turns out."

Cas nodded. "OK, Sam. If you will lock that jar in the bunker's safe, then I will retrieve Nicole for Dean, and then we'll give Quinn a call."

"Sounds good," Sam agreed, and they moved to the front door of the house. The lock on it was one of those that could be set to lock as soon as the door was closed behind them, Gail noted. Not that it really mattered, she supposed. She doubted Andy would be back anytime soon, and any potential burglar would be taking a huge risk going in there, whenever the gang of rats she was sure had taken over the place decided to come out of hiding and throw their wild rat party.

But at least they had the bone now. One down, one to go.

Nicole hung up the phone, smiling. She'd asked them to give her about half an hour to finish packing to go to the bunker, instead of for wherever Richard had been planning on sending her. Frankly, she didn't really care. While it probably would have been interesting in its own way, there was nowhere she wanted to be more than that bunker right now.

She packed a little lighter for this particular excursion. Strictly low-maintenance outfits. Jeans, tee shirts, comfortable shoes. But some sexy underwear was going in there, as well. She was pretty sure Dean was the type of guy who would appreciate something like that. Not that she planned on wearing it that long.

She checked her appearance in the mirror after snapping the suitcase shut. Cas would probably be picking her up in a few minutes. She smiled again. This was going to be great. Oh, she would have to send Richard an apologetic e-mail, telling him that she hoped to be feeling better soon. It must be that summer flu that was going around. She wasn't about to tell the boss the real reason she wasn't willing to fly across the world, scouting locations. She dashed off the message and closed her computer just as Cas's knock sounded.

Gail, Sam and Dean were sitting around the library table when Cas arrived with Nicole. Ever the gentleman, Cas had insisted on carrying her suitcase, but Nicole reclaimed it from him the instant they appeared.

Dean rose quickly from his chair to greet Nicole with a hug and a kiss as Cas approached Sam and Gail.

"We called Quinn while you were gone," Gail told him. "She said she'll see us tomorrow."

Cas nodded. "Good. If Oliver will tell us where he is buried, we can go to his grave and retrieve what we need. Seeing as Nicole has just arrived, you can stay here if you wish, Dean." He looked at their friend when no response was forthcoming. "Dean?"

Nicole was whispering something in Dean's ear, and he was smiling broadly. "Dean?" Cas said again. "Huh? What?" Dean said, and Gail smiled. Dean must be loving this. Finally, a chance to get Cas back for all of those times that Cas and Gail had done the same thing to him.

Cas repeated what he had said, but Nicole surprised him by saying, "No, Dean should go with you. I know how important it is to find Vincent. I was so sorry to hear about what he put you through, Gail. He sounds just as bad as Lucifer, if not worse. You guys go, and I'll stay here. Maybe I'll check out some of the books in your library. I'd like to learn more about what you guys do. Besides, I just want to enjoy some quiet time off, between movies. I love to travel, but it's kind of nice not to have to do it all the time. That's one reason I turned Richard down." She turned to Dean, kissing him on the cheek. "One reason," she added, smiling. "But I have a confession to make: I told Richard I had the flu. I just thought it would sound kind of unprofessional to say I wanted to hang around with my boyfriend, instead."

Cas smiled. "We won't give away your secret," he told her. "I'm just glad to see the two of you together, at last."

"Me, too," Dean said. "Well, we'll see you guys tomorrow. I'm gonna go help Nicole unpack."

The couple hurried down the hall as Sam yawned and stretched. "Well, I probably won't be seeing any more of them tonight. Maybe I'll go watch a movie in my room. I've still got those noise-cancelling headphones," he added dryly.

"We'll see you tomorrow, then, Sam," Cas said. He took Gail's hand, and they winked out.

"Do you want to hang some stuff up?" Dean was asking Nicole. "I could take some things out of one of my drawers, if you want."

Right. She should probably unpack her clothing, so it didn't get too wrinkly. Nicole opened a bureau drawer and stared down into it, puzzled by what she saw. She picked up a pair of Dean's socks, which were formed into a misshapen ball.

He smiled sheepishly. "I know. It's stupid, right? Gail used to do the laundry and roll them up in these round balls. It drove me nuts, but then I got kind of used to it. So now, I try to do it the same way she did, but they come out looking like that. Don't tell her that, though. I'll never hear the end of it. Maybe I'll ask Cas if he knows how she does it. She must do the same thing for him."

Nicole turned to look at him, still holding the socks. Dean misinterpreted the look on her face. "But don't worry," he said hastily. "That's the only thing she ever did for me. Well, that and make me breakfast. And clean the bunker. And she used to make my bed. But she was never in it, Nicole. I swear. She's like a sister to me. That's all she's ever been to me. I was just doing them a favour. According to their dumbass Angel rules, they wouldn't have been able to get married again if I hadn't married her. But that's all it was; a favour. And now, it's over."

Nicole tossed the socks back in the drawer and walked over to where he stood. "I have no interest in being your sister," she said, putting her arms around him.

"Good," Dean said, kissing her on the mouth. "My family's too damn big, anyway."

"I'll unpack later," Nicole murmured, unbuttoning his shirt. "I don't think I'll be needing too many clothes tonight." She pushed him, backing him up to the bed. She pulled his shirt off, throwing it somewhere behind her. Then she was kissing his chest, feeling his muscles. She pushed him harder, and he fell backwards onto the bed. She got on top of him, straddling him. "We've got a lot to make up for, don't we?" Nicole said to him. She pulled her top off over her head, and Dean saw with happy surprise that she wasn't wearing a bra. He'd never seen her like that before, and it turned him on. She grabbed his hands and put them on her bare breasts. Geez, maybe he should marry another woman more often, if this was going to be the reaction he got.

Then Nicole unzipped Dean's pants, and he was done thinking for a while.

Sam tried to watch a movie, but he couldn't concentrate. It had been weird, calling Quinn on Speaker with Gail right beside him, chiming in on the conversation. Quinn's voice had been cold and formal, but when they'd told her why they were calling, she had become a tiny bit more receptive. She desperately wanted Oliver out of her house. As more and more time had passed, he had become more petulant, and his spirit had taken on an increasingly more corporeal form. He was extremely disruptive, scaring away potential customers and throwing her things around the house when he became frustrated, like a child having a temper tantrum. He had been very upset when Quinn had told him she'd broken up with Sam, and even more upset when she'd said that she was washing her hands of the whole lot of them. Things had gotten so bad after that, that Quinn had come close to caving several times and calling Sam for his help. But now, he'd been the one to call her, and even though Gail had been with him, Quinn had known that there was nothing going on between them. So she'd magnanimously agreed to see them, because it was them asking her for a favour, not the other way around. After all, she had her pride.

Gail. It was strange, the way that Sam kept going back and forth. At times, Sam felt like some kind of angsty teenager about her. She had never loved him, and she never would. Why couldn't he seem to accept that? Some days he thought it was because, on paper, he was a better match for her than Cas was, in nearly every category. But then other days, Sam felt like the worst friend in the world for thinking that way. Cas had been his and Dean's friend for just about forever, or so it felt like. If there was ever a guy who deserved a woman like Gail, it was Cas. He was technically Dean's best friend, Sam supposed, but what many people didn't realize was that Cas and Sam shared a profound bond of their own. Admittedly, it hadn't always been so, when the two of them had first been getting acquainted. Cas had walked into that barn and into their lives like some kind of a superhero gunslinger, fresh from rescuing Sam's brother from the depths of Hell. And what had Sam been doing? Screwing around with Ruby. Drinking Demon blood. NOT rescuing his brother from Hell. But eventually, he and Cas had gotten past their initial mistrust of each other and bonded over their love for Dean, and their innate desire to save humankind. And now, if Cas asked Sam to die for him, Sam would, just like he would for Dean. They were more than friends, all three of them. They were truly brothers. How the hell could Sam covet Cas's wife, then? Everybody always called Sam the smart one; well, maybe it was time he started proving it.

It was funny, too, that during the past six months Gail had spent here in the bunker, married to his brother, Sam had never once thought about what would happen once Dean and Gail's marriage was annulled. Not even once. A very large part of him had been convinced that it would be a moot point. Dean Winchester, celibate for six months? When Gail and Dean had been made to bleed on Cas's blade, Sam had half-expected Gail to grab that thing and stab Dean with it, once he failed the purity test. But, wonder of wonders, Sam's brother had passed one of the toughest tests he'd ever had to take. And if Sam had been a little bit disappointed by that fact, well, that could be his little secret.

He started to hear sounds coming from Dean's room down the hall now, and while it had regrettably been a little too long since he'd been a participant in the kinds of activities that produced those sounds, Sam wished his brother well. That didn't mean that he wanted to hear that crap, though. He put on his headphones.

Cas and Gail were sitting on the couch in her suite in Heaven. They had talked about her uncle, his messy house, Dean and Nicole, Quinn, Sam, and Oliver.

Gail had basically run out of conversation now, and she wasn't about to sit here and make meaningless small talk with the love of her life. "Are you punishing me, Cas?" she said bluntly.

"I beg your pardon? What are you talking about?" he said, genuinely puzzled.

"Are you punishing me for having been married to your best friend for the past six months?" she persisted. "Even though it wasn't my idea," she added pointedly, "and I had absolutely no say in the matter?"

"No," he said, astonished. "Why? Why would you even think that?"

"Because you've been keeping me at arm's length, ever since the annulment," Gail replied.

"I thought you understood," he said, but she held up her hand. "Not yours and mine," she said irritably. "Mine and Dean's."

"Is that what you think I've been doing?" Punishing you?" Cas said, agitated.

"Well, I don't know what else to think, Cas," Gail said, frowning. "We've done everything short of talk about the weather here, and you haven't even kissed me once. You haven't even tried. You haven't even reached for my hand."

He was chagrined. "I thought I had explained that. I'm just trying to court you, to give you the respect and consideration you deserve."

Gail sighed. "Let me ask you a question, Cas. DO you respect me?"

"Yes, I do," he replied earnestly. "Very much. Infinite amounts."

"There. It's established. You respect me," she said dryly. "Now, I need you to love me. Do you still love me, Cas?"

Now he was appalled. Was that what she had been thinking this whole time? How could he have been so oblivious? With everything Gail had been through, she was just looking for reassurance. He HAD been holding her at arm's length, thinking he was doing the right thing. Holding himself to an old-fashioned code of conduct, because that was how he had been given to understand that these things should work. But it was that same kind of antiquated thinking that had landed them here in the first place, wasn't it? The ancient rules had forced them to separate, and Gail to marry another man, and for what? For Cas to have to sit here and hear that she thought he didn't love her anymore, because he'd been adhering to a code of conduct that was so outdated it might as well he hanging in the Museum of Ancient History? She was asking for his love and reassurance now. What the hell was the matter with him?

"I'll be right back," he told her.

Nicole and Dean were laying in each other's arms, and suddenly, Dean's stomach grumbled. "Sorry," he said, kissing her on the forehead. "I'm starving. You must be, too. We should go to the kitchen and get something to eat. If there IS anything. We're not the best at keeping fresh food in the house. It's because we're away so much."

She kissed him on the lips. "That's OK; I'm sure I can find something. You stay here, and I'll go look. I'll see what I can rustle up. You just relax. Your job isn't done here yet, Mister." She licked his earlobe, and then got out of bed. "Mind if I borrow your robe? Just in case," she said, smiling. She grabbed it from the closet and tied it around herself. Then she blew him a kiss and let herself out of his room.

She padded down to the kitchen and started rooting around in the fridge and the cupboards. What would he like to eat? He was right; there wasn't a whole lot here.

"Sorry, we haven't done much grocery shopping lately," Sam said from behind her.

Nicole smoothed her hair, and cinched her robe tight. Thank goodness she'd put it on. "Hi, Sam," she said mildly. "I hope we didn't wake you."

"It's OK," he said affably. "I'm just here foraging for a snack, same as you are. Dean'll be just fine with peanut butter and crackers, just so you know. I guess we'll have to lay in something more substantial tomorrow."

"Do you really think you can find Vincent?" she asked him curiously.

"It seems pretty likely," Sam said, nodding. "Are you sure you're OK with Dean coming with us tomorrow? I know you just got here."

"Absolutely," Nicole replied. "I understand what the priority is here, Sam. Do you think that if you find Vincent, you can kill him?"

Sam thought for a moment. "I don't know, Nicole. But, first things first. If we can find out where he is, you never know. But, I think Gail's right: we have to find the Book of the Dead before he does. Maybe we can use THAT to kill him."

"What about the Book of Life?" Nicole asked Sam. "Dean told me there's one of those, too."

"I don't know," Sam said again, frowning thoughtfully. "I guess that's still up for grabs, as well. Hey, we'll take any advantage we can get." Then he yawned, moving past her over to the pantry. He scanned the meagre contents, and then he sighed. "Maybe I'll go to the supermarket in the morning. Do you like egg whites?"

"Who doesn't?" Nicole replied automatically.

"My brother, and your boyfriend, that's who," Sam said. "Maybe you and I can conspire. Make him eat healthier."

"Sure, Sam," Nicole said, grinning. "It'll be a project for both of us to work on."

"Goodnight," he said, heading down the hallway.

Nicole stared after him, smiling. Then she went back to rummaging through the cupboards.

Cas popped back into Gail's suite, sitting beside her on the couch. He reached out for her, taking her hands in his. But then, his mouth dried up.

"I want to say something to you," he was eventually able to say, "but this isn't the proper setting."

Suddenly, they were on the balcony of the hotel in Vancouver where he had proposed to her the first time. "I asked Barry to call in a few favours," Cas said charmingly. "The couple who were supposed to stay here tonight have been told that there was a problem with the room, and they have been set up at the Fairmont Vancouver, free of charge. I hope you don't mind the redundancy, but I just couldn't bear doing this any other place."

He eased her down into one of the chairs, and then he sank down to his knees in front of her. Then he took the ring out of his jacket pocket. It was her original engagement ring, but he had added a sapphire at one end to represent his essence, and a crown gold nugget on the other end to represent Gail's.

"I also couldn't bear giving you another ring, although you will note that it's been slightly enhanced," Cas told her. "There's another blue stone to represent my essence, which is part of you now. Then, on the other side, there's a luminous gold stone, to represent you, and how strong and independent you are. I love you so much, my darling, and I need you desperately. I only pray that you still need me, too. I know that you no longer need my protection against our enemies, but I hope that you will allow me to offer it, anyway. I pray that you still love me, despite all of my flaws. And I humbly entreat you to marry me anyway, in spite of them. If you would do me this honour, I would spend the rest of my existence honouring you, by attempting to make you the happiest person in the universe. I know we have a hard road ahead of us, but right now I need to be your champion again, Gail. Please let me be that for you. Please wear my ring again. Please be my wife again. Please."

She put her arms around his neck. "Oh, Cas," she said, her eyes misting with tears. "I love you so much, sweetie."

Cas slid the ring on her finger, and the two of them kissed softly. Gail broke the kiss, and then she looked around. "What? No white doves, this time?" she quipped. "Oh, well, you can't win 'em all."

Suddenly, one did appear, perching itself on the railing. Then another one, then another, until there were a couple of dozen. They were sitting quietly all around the railing, as if waiting for instructions.

"Make a wish, my darling," Cas said in his soft voice.

Gail thought for a moment, and then she waved her arms, sending the birds to flight. "What did you wish for?" Cas asked her.

"This," she said simply. "Forever." She put her arms around him. "I love you, Cas. Thank you for waiting for me."

"No, thank YOU for waiting for ME," he replied. "But you haven't actually answered my question, yet."

"I don't recall you actually asking one," she said mischievously.

"Fair enough," he said, smiling. "Will you do me the ultimate honour of being my wife again?"

"Yes," Gail said simply. "Yes. This time, and every time. We're eternal beings, and you're stuck with me for eternity."

"Happily," Cas said, kissing her on the lips. "Just like earlier today. Nothing can ever tear us apart. Ever. I am yours, from now until the end of time." He kissed her again, and this time, he pried her lips open with his tongue. "And now that we are officially engaged, I feel that it's appropriate to make love to you. If you wish," Cas told her.

Gail looked at him. He was kidding, right? She pretended to consider. "Well, let me see..." she said slowly. "OK, I've thought about it, and if you don't have me in that bed with my clothes off in about 10 seconds, I might have to re-think my answer to your proposal."

Cas smiled. "Oh. Well, since you put it that way..." he said, and he popped them inside. "I would not want you to reconsider," Cas said charmingly, and he waved his hand, removing both of their clothes instantly. Gail looked down to see that he was already in an excited state. Cas saw where she was looking, and he smiled sheepishly. "Well, I have been separated from my mate for over six months," he remarked.

Gail smiled. He was so cute. "So have I. What a coincidence," she joked lightly.

"Then, I think it's time we did something about that, don't you?" Cas said, still speaking softly.

Gail had barely had time to nod when he reached for her and lowered her onto the bed. "I love you, and I respect you," Cas said, kissing her neck. "I would never want you to think otherwise."

"I don't," she responded, caressing his back. "But right now, I need you to make love to me, and I need you to give me everything, Cas. Please. It's been way too long."

"I concur," he said, nuzzling her neck. "I have restrained myself for as long as I felt was decently possible. But now, I feel that I cannot any longer."

Gail was trying to keep herself from smiling at the way he was speaking, but it was difficult. She knew that he was trying to be earnest, but he was just being so darn cute to her now that she didn't know if she could stand it. "Then, by all means, don't," she told him.

Cas was caressing her body now. He was glad that she had said that, because it was becoming more and more difficult for him to hold back. He loved her so much. But he was over the moon, now. She had agreed to be his wife again. He was the happiest man in existence.

"What do you need, my love?" he asked her, as he always had.

But she thought it was about time she switched that up. "No, Cas. I think it's about time I asked you that question: what do YOU need?" Gail said.

He looked at her. "I don't know if anyone has ever asked me that question before," he said disarmingly.

"Well then, it's high time that someone did," Gail remarked. "What DO you need, sweetie?"

"To love you, forever and ever, with no end," he answered candidly. "That is all I need. Everything else is just...wonderful icing on the cake."

"Then you have your wish," Gail told him, kissing his face. "Because I love you, just the same way you love me. Let's get married as soon as possible. But in the meantime, if you don't make love to me right now, I think I'll have to - "

Cas didn't give her a chance to finish the sentence. He kissed her on her mouth, and then he said, "I don't care to hear the end of that sentence. I will make love to you, and then there will never be any reason for you to wonder if you are loved. Not ever again." He kissed her once more, and Gail smiled. Happy tears were misting her eyes now. Of course Cas would say something like that. He always wanted her to know that she was loved. Never more than when she had been in the position of being downtrodden by yet another member of her family.

Cas wound his way down her body, and then he spread her legs gently. "This is where I believe I will start," he said, smiling. He licked the insides of her thighs on either side, and then he applied his tongue where she needed him to.

Gail started making her sounds immediately, and Cas smiled again. Now he knew that she believed that he'd meant it when he'd said that he would do whatever it took to make her happy. He couldn't wait until they were married again. But this was good enough, for the time being.

Cas moved up and he entered her, putting his arms around her and cuddling her to him. A couple of moments later, he was whimpering, telling her he loved her. She was doing the same, wrapping her legs around him. "I love you so much, sweetie," she said, but Cas was speechless at the moment, open-mouthed. This felt so good, and it had been so long. In fact, it was so wonderful that he had temporarily lost his ability to speak.

The two of them were crying out, making inarticulate sounds as they wrapped themselves around one another, clinging to each other. Cas thrust himself deep into her, enjoying the intimacy of feeling like the two of them were one. And as far as he was concerned, they were. Two halves of a whole, indivisible from each other. He had been an utter fool to stay away from Gail. Cas needed her far too much. After all, he could marry her and woo her at the same time, couldn't he?

"I love you so much, my darling," Cas told her, moving more slowly now. He was making himself hold back, because he didn't want it to be over so soon. "I hope you don't mind a short engagement."

"I can't wait to be your wife again," Gail breathed, grazing his cheek with her lips. Then she licked his earlobe, and he groaned. "As far as I'm concerned, I never stopped," she added softly into his ear.

"I have never been happier than when I was your husband," Cas said, and he started to speed up his motion again. There was nothing that excited him more than to talk about himself and Gail as husband and wife.

Gail knew that, of course, and she wasn't above using it. "I can't wait until we're married, sweetie," she murmured. "I've never been happier than when I was your wife."

Cas kissed her on the mouth, giving her his tongue as he felt the hot rush. He held her tightly to him, speaking words of love and eternal devotion.

Once they got their breath back, Gail kissed Cas's face softly. She smiled, waggling the finger with the engagement ring on it. "Looks like I'm going to get that fall wedding I was hoping for, after all," she said, snuggling against Cas contentedly.

"Whatever you want, my love," he told her, caressing her lightly. "Whatever you want."

Dean had fallen asleep spooning Nicole, and he woke up in the morning in that same position, after she had worn him out. "Good morning," he said softly, tightening his arms around her. He started to kiss her back and shoulders. "Sleep OK?"

"Oh, yes," she responded. She let him keep going for a minute, but when his kisses became more ardent and then his hands started to roam, she said, "I'm going to put on some coffee, and then I'm going to have a shower."

Dean got the message. He didn't really blame her for wanting that shower, though. He should probably have one, too. It had definitely been one hot, sweaty night. He started to kiss her again, hoping he could get her to change her mind about getting out of bed. He started to press himself against her, moving her sweaty hair away from the back of her neck in order to kiss her there...

Nicole scrambled out of the bed. "I'm going to borrow your robe again," she told him. "I'll put the coffee on, and then I'm going for my shower. Maybe you could be in the kitchen when I come out, so I can get dressed in private." She cinched the robe around her waist and left Dean's room immediately as he stared after her, open-mouthed. OK, that had been a little weird. But even though he and Nicole had been dating for a few years now, in a lot of ways, they were just getting to know each other. They'd spent very little real time together, when you did the math. Maybe she just wasn't a morning person. Maybe she was a little grumpy before she had her coffee. Dean had often been accused of being the same way.

Or maybe she had a "thing" about morning sex. He probably hadn't helped matters by pawing at her before she'd barely had time to open her eyes. But it had been so nice to wake up with her in his arms. Dean wasn't ready to let go of the night they had just had, just yet. He rolled over onto his back, smiling at the memory. Just a few short hours ago, she had been on top of him, riding him like the world's sexiest cowgirl. Oh, great. Now he was getting excited again. But she was gone, and she wanted him out of the room when she came back in to get dressed.

Dean sighed, throwing back the covers. Nicole had his robe, so he put on his shorts, sweats, and a T-shirt. Coffee would be good, actually, and then they would have to see about breakfast. She'd told him last night that the pickings were pretty slim in the kitchen. Maybe he could con Sammy into making a quick grocery run. How early were Cas and Gail gonna come? Maybe they could pop out and get a few things. Or maybe they should all just go out to the diner. But Dean was kind of hoping to talk Nicole into one more ride before they got dressed and went about their day.

As Nicole approached the kitchen, she could smell it: the coffee was already on. Sam must have gotten up early and done it. So she prepared her best smile and walked into the kitchen, but a surprise awaited her there.

"Good morning," Gail said. "I already made the coffee. Help yourself."

Nicole stood still for a moment. She definitely hadn't expected to see the Angels here so early. It wasn't like they ate breakfast, or anything. As she moved forward slowly, Gail laughed. She was sitting on Cas's lap, even though there was plenty of room at the table. Cas had his arms wound around Gail as if he was never going to let go of her, but then Gail kissed him lightly on his forehead and he released her. She stood and approached Nicole.

"I can tell you're surprised to see us here so early, but we just couldn't wait to share our news," Gail told Nicole. She showed Dean's girlfriend her ring. "We're engaged!" Gail said excitedly. "Or, is it re-engaged? Nahhh, I'm just going to stick with engaged. That sounds better."

Nicole looked at the two of them. Oh. Right. She was supposed to say something, now. She was supposed to be happy for them. But what was the correct level of happiness, exactly?

Dean came into the kitchen. "Hey, you guys are here early," he remarked. "But that's good, 'cause I need a favour. Is there any chance I could get one or both of you to pop out and pick us up a few things for breakfast?"

Cas smiled. Then he waved his hand. "I think that, if you open the refrigerator, you'll find that's not necessary."

Nicole opened the fridge door, and Dean smiled slowly. Milk, eggs, bacon, sausage, cheese, and cream for their coffee. "Fantastic," he enthused. "Thanks, your Godship."

"We have good news, Dean," Cas said, and Gail poked her friend in the arm, showing him her engagement ring. Dean's smile widened. "Hey, congrats," he said. He pulled Gail to him for a brief hug, but because Nicole was there, he let go of Gail almost immediately. That whole being-married-to-his-best-friend's-wife thing was still a little too fresh, and now that he was back in Nicole's good graces, Dean figured he had better not push it. He got himself a cup of coffee and brought it to the table, clapping Cas on the shoulder as he sat down. "I'm happy for you, Buddy," Dean said to Cas, who smiled delightedly.

"I'm going for my shower now," Nicole announced, and then she left the room. Dean stared after her curiously. She hadn't even gotten herself a cup of coffee. Maybe he should have poured her one, but she'd been standing right there. Oh, well. She probably just wanted to be more presentable now that Cas and Gail were here. Women cared about junk like that. There went his opportunity for morning sex, though, unless Dean could convince her to come back to his room with him after breakfast. They weren't due to go to Quinn's place until later this morning.

Dean's stomach growled audibly, and Gail smiled. "Might be I know a guy who's hungry like a bear this morning," she teased him. "I wonder why."

He returned her smile. "Any chance I could get the ex-Mrs. Winchester to throw a little breakfast my way?"

Gail raised an eyebrow. "I'd be very careful about the way you phrase that, if I were you. But, yeah, I don't see any reason why not. Where's Sam? Still sleeping?"

Dean shrugged. "I guess so."

Gail's forehead wrinkled. "Hmmm. That's unusual. He's usually an early riser. We should probably wait for him."

"But I'm hungry now," Dean protested.

Gail shook her head. "OK, OK. Don't whine. I'll go knock on his door and tell him I'm making breakfast. If he wants to stay in bed, he can just tell me so."

Dean nodded. Sounded good to him. If Sammy wanted to stay in bed, he could make his own damn breakfast.

Gail left the kitchen and walked down the hall towards Sam's room. Before she got there, though, Nicole came out of the bathroom, wearing Dean's robe, and a towel wrapped around her hair. "The shower's free, if Dean wants to go next," she told Gail. "I'll be there in a minute. I'm just going to get dressed."

Gail opened her mouth to say something, probably something about breakfast, but then she closed it with a snap. Nicole had turned her back on Gail to go to Dean's room, which was in the opposite direction. She had wrapped her wet hair in the towel turban-style, as women do, without even thinking twice. Therefore, there was currently no hair on the back of her neck, obscuring the "REV" tattoo she bore.

As Nicole slipped into Dean's room, Gail stood rooted to the spot in shock. "'REV'?'" she murmured aloud. REV? What the hell? Was Gail seeing things? Why on earth would Nicole have the "REV" tattoo? No, there had to be some kind of explanation for it. Nicole could hardly have been one of Lucifer's followers. She and Dean had already gotten together before Lucifer had even gotten out of that cage. No. There was no way. That wouldn't make any sense. Even if she had somehow become a devotee of Lucifer's when he'd had his TV show, Nicole had been a part of their group for quite some time now. Admittedly, they didn't know her all that well, but they knew her well enough to know that Nicole wasn't a Satan worshipper. Could the tattoo signify something else, and just be a wild coincidence? No. No. Gail couldn't believe that. She DIDN'T believe that.

She popped herself into the kitchen and grabbed Cas by the arm. "We need to talk."

Ammit took off Dean's robe and the towel she'd been wearing on her head, tossing them on the bed. She stretched her human form, reveling in the feeling of being both naked and clean. She was still a little sore from the previous night, but that was a normal state of affairs when coupling with a man. At least Dean Winchester had given as good as he had got. Lucifer and Mark had been selfish lovers, only interested in their own pleasure. Vincent had been selfish too, but he had been much more skilled, at least. And he'd been rough enough to appeal to her Demon side. That was why so much of her true form had emerged when the two of them had gotten going in that cabana.

But Dean had been a different matter. He'd not only cared about his own pleasure, but hers, too. He had been very proficient, just the right combination of tough and tender. Ammit could see why this Nicole woman liked him so much. The only thing she'd had to worry about was making sure Dean didn't see her tattoo. Unlike many others, he would know the significance of the mark. She'd had a bad moment this morning, when Dean had been behind her, moving her hair away from her neck. But she'd gotten out of that situation, and she could get out of others, as the need arose. Getting that mark put on her vessel had been inadvisable, she realized now, because no matter who Ammit took over, the tattoo always showed up, right there in the same place.

She began to dress. Actually, it was a miracle that Castiel hadn't already detected who she was. By rights, a being like her shouldn't even have been able to enter the bunker, but Dean had expressly extended his invitation for her to enter, and that had done the trick. Maybe Castiel was just distracted. They were on their mission to find Vincent now, and he and Gail had just gotten engaged. Ammit didn't give a fig about their engagement, but they could go right ahead and find Vincent. That would be just fine with her. Vincent, and his bragging about his familial connections. But it was Ammit who was in the bunker now, wasn't it? She was quite eager to do some exploring when they all went to see that psychic later. Wouldn't it be funny if she would be the one to find the information on the Books? Vincent and Raguel thought that she was the weak link. Ammit knew they did. Well, she would show them just how "weak" she was.

She continued to dress.

Gail had popped Cas over to the library area to have their private chat, and she wasted no time telling him what she had seen.

Cas was astonished. Truthfully, he'd known there was something going on with Nicole, but he had been trying to get past it. Cas thought that maybe Nicole was angrier with Dean, and with Gail, than she had been letting on. Ever since Cas had gone to transport Nicole here yesterday, he'd been getting a negative vibe from her, a sense of repressed hostility. But that was understandable, wasn't it? She had been forced to sit by for half a year while her boyfriend married another woman, putting his dead mother's ring on that woman's finger. And now, they were all acting as though that had never even happened. But Cas could relate to how Nicole must feel, more than anyone might think. Even Gail. There had been many times during that six-month period that Cas's mind had pictured Gail and Dean sitting in the bunker, laughing over a drink or two. Dean would put his hand on hers, or give her a casual hug, and Gail would smile and tell him that she appreciated the affectionate gestures. She was so sad without Cas around. So Dean would take her hand in his, the hand with Mary Winchester's ring on it, wanting to console her, and Cas's hands would curl into fists every time he'd thought about that. Gail wasn't Dean's wife, she was Cas's, and it should be Cas who was holding her hand. That was supposed to be Cas's ring on her finger. This was killing him. So he would go to the gym at the Academy and work out his anger there, and then he would give Gail a call on their frequency once he had calmed down a bit, and talking to her would make him feel better. And then the cycle would repeat itself, again and again and again. Cas had suffered through every moment of that six months, but he had never told anyone about it. Not Gail, not anyone. Especially not Gail. To tell her such things would have made her feel terrible, and it would have been for no reason, because none of it had been Gail's fault, or her doing.

So Cas had toughed it out, because Gail had toughed it out, and now here they were, engaged again, and talking about a fall wedding. This should be the happiest that Cas had felt in ages. But now, there were Dean and Nicole to worry about. Didn't they deserve their happiness, too?

"Are you sure you weren't just imagining it?" Cas said to Gail now. "How far away were you from each other? Maybe it was just a trick of the light, or a few loose strands of her hair that you saw."

Gail was staring at him. "No, Cas, it wasn't. I saw what I saw. Why are you so anxious to think otherwise?"

"Maybe because I know that Dean has feelings for Nicole," Cas answered quietly. "He hasn't really come out and said so, but I know that he does."

"Well then, that would be wonderful, if that's the case," Gail said, mystified, "but what would that have to do with what I saw?"

Cas sighed. She was going to make him say it, wasn't she? Fine, then. He would. They had to get this resolved. "Perhaps you imagined it, because you think that Nicole is not good enough for Dean. Just as you thought that Quinn was not good enough for Sam."

Now, she was angry, which was what he had been afraid of. "Have you been reading my thoughts, Cas? I was under the impression that you were too much of a gentleman to do that. Well, get ready to hear some shocking language, because guess what I'm thinking now?!"

"No, I didn't read your thoughts, Gail. I would never do that," Cas said earnestly. "I just know you very, very well. Do you deny that is what you were thinking?"

She let out a frustrated breath. "All right, Cas. For the record, you're right about Quinn. She's all wrong for Sam, in my opinion. But that's not how I feel about Nicole. I barely even know the woman. But I know what I saw, and I know it wasn't my imagination! Now are you going to back me up, or not?"

"Hey, what's all the yelling about?" Sam said, emerging from the hallway.

Oh, crap. If Sam had heard them, maybe Dean and Nicole had, too. But, they didn't appear. Maybe they were both in the kitchen, which was at the end of the hallway. It wasn't as if she and Cas had been shouting at each other this whole time.

"Come here, Sam," Gail said quickly, gesturing to him. He approached her, and Gail told him in a quieter voice what she'd seen.

"'REV'? But, that was Lucifer's nickname, right?" Sam said, dazed. "OK, let's go talk to Nicole. We're gonna damn well find out why she's got that on her neck."

"See, Cas? THAT'S how you believe someone," Gail said tartly.

Cas's heart sank. "I didn't say I didn't believe you, I just - " He sighed. "If she is not who we thought she was, this is going to devastate Dean. But, we must find out."

"Wait a minute," Sam said, holding his hands up in a halting gesture. "She couldn't have always had that tattoo there, or Dean would have seen it. I mean, they've been together for a few years now, right? Dean must have been in a position where he would have seen it by now, if you know what I mean."

Gail made a face. "OK, Sam, thanks for that mental image I didn't need. But, let's face it; you're probably right. That would be something that would be pretty hard to hide from somebody you're being intimate with. But if it's something she got recently, why would it be that, and why now?"

They all exchanged looks, but no one could think of a logical explanation for it. There was really only one way to find out.

The trio walked down the hall to the kitchen, where Dean and Nicole were sitting beside each other at the table, kissing. Gail's stomach did a flip-flop. Cas was wrong. Gail really did want Dean and Nicole to be happy. Why shouldn't she? Well, as long as Nicole wasn't a Satanic groupie, that was.

"Finally!" Dean said as they entered the room. "So, where do we stand on this breakfast thing?"

"I'll make breakfast," Gail offered.

"I'll help," Nicole said, rising from her chair.

"But don't get too used to this," Gail cautioned the men, trying to sound like herself despite the fact that her guts were churning. "In fact, we'll be expecting you men to cook supper, later. What are you making for us, Dean?"

Nicole was taking the butter, eggs, and bacon out of the fridge, and she laughed now. "Dean? Cook? You're kidding, right?" she said, handing the food items to Gail.

"So, if you want to do some light reading while we're out, Nicole, I could recommend a few books from our library," Sam said casually, getting up from the table and walking over to the coffeemaker. He stared at the back of Nicole's neck as she went back to the fridge to take out more items. "Something on ancient markings, maybe? It's amazing what the origin stories are for a lot of symbols we see today."

"No thank you, Sam," Nicole said, missing the inference. She grabbed the cheese and a ripe tomato, then closed the fridge door with her hip. "But what I would like to read about are ancient legends, and mythologies. The Holy Grail, the Ark, and the fabled ancient texts like the Dead Sea Scrolls. Stuff like that. Have you got anything like that?"

"I'm sure that Cas could tell you a million stories about things like that," Dean said, smiling. "I know he's got a good one about the Ark."

"Dean..." Sam said, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"What? I thought we'd decided to find that funny again," Dean protested.

"Well, as entertaining as Castiel's stories would be, I think I'll just read for myself," Nicole said, smiling. She got the cutting board out of the cupboard and a large knife out of the drawer and began slicing up the tomato. Sam liked those with breakfast. Gail began taking eggs out of the carton. Sam automatically reached up to one of the higher shelves to get a mixing bowl for her, and then he walked back to the kitchen table with his coffee, giving Cas a look.

But Cas was ignoring him, because something had just hit him like a bolt of lightning. "Castiel". Nicole had called him Castiel. Cas got up just as Sam re-took his seat, and he walked slowly over to the counter now. "Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked the women.

Suddenly, Cas grabbed Nicole with one hand, lifting up the back of her hair with the other.

"What are you doing?" she shrieked, struggling. But Ammit had been taken completely by surprise.

There it was: "REV". Gail had been right. Cas relaxed his grip for a moment, giving Ammit the opportunity to turn around to face him. She was holding the knife in such a way that suggested that she was contemplating using it on him, but Cas just smiled grimly, and the knife suddenly disappeared from her hand. Then Cas seized her again. "Who are you?" he demanded. "Who are you, and what do you want?"

Dean leaped from his chair. "What the hell, Cas? What are you doing?" he asked his friend angrily.

"He's hurting me, Dean," Ammit said desperately, but it was pretty much over now, and she knew it. She had no powers in the bunker, because it was warded against evil beings. Castiel held all the cards here.

"She has a tattoo on the back of her neck," Cas said to Dean. "It says 'REV'. You remember who THAT was, don't you?"

"What? What are you talking about? No, she doesn't," Dean protested. "I've seen every inch of her from every angle, and I guarantee you, she doesn't."

"No? Then, what's this?" Cas spun Ammit back around and pushed her head down, sweeping her hair away from her neck once again to reveal the tattoo.

Dean peered at it, open-mouthed. Then he looked at Cas. "Well, she didn't have that before!" he exclaimed.

"That's because she's not Nicole," Cas said through gritted teeth. He turned her back around to look at all of them, and suddenly, all five of them were standing in the storeroom beside the prisoner's chair. Cas looked down at the pentagram on the floor, and then back up at Nicole's face. "Tell Dean your true identity," he ordered her.

"I am Ammit," the Demon Goddess said, with as much dignity as she could muster under the circumstances. "The Keeper of the Lake of Fire. Or at least I was until just recently, until you Angels came after me."

"Why are you here?" Cas asked her. "What do you want?"

"I think you know the answer to that, Castiel," Ammit told him. "The Books. I want the Books." She looked at Gail. "Your father says hello, by the way. A charming man, and a fiendish lover. No pun intended. I've met very few who can hold a candle to him. But he can't be trusted. Nor can Raguel. That is why I had to don this skin, so that I could access your library, to see if you have any useful information on the location of the Book of Life, and the Book of the Dead."

"Don't you think, if we did, we would have acted on it by now?" Gail said, raising her voice. She was beyond enraged now. The nerve of this woman, coming in here, impersonating Nicole. And Dean had spent the night with her. Yuk. Gail didn't even want to think about what Ammit had said about her father, either. Too disgusting. But now, it had been confirmed: the Unholy trio had been communicating with each other, and the race was on in earnest now. They'd better hurry up and get Oliver's bones, then.

But first, they had to get rid of Ammit. How, though? They could hardly kill her while she was in Nicole's body, could they? Unless... "Is Nicole still alive?" Gail asked Ammit.

"Of course she is," Ammit replied. "We're just...sharing accommodations right now. But, yes, she's in here, too."

Dean was staring at Ammit now, a look of total disgust on his face. "Get out of my girlfriend," he demanded.

"Really? That's pretty much the opposite of what you were saying last night," Ammit taunted him. "In fact, I was contemplating adding a few new orifices to this vessel, so you could penetrate those, too. What's that Nicole is always thinking about you? Oh, yes: a nice guy in the streets, but a cowboy in the sheets. And we certainly did some riding last night, didn't we, Dean? Don't pretend you didn't enjoy it."

Nicole's eyes turned coal black as Dean grabbed her by the throat. "Get out of my girlfriend, you damn bitch!" he shouted.

"Or what, Dean? You'll kill me? Go right ahead," Ammit jeered. "But if you do, you'll be killing your little girlfriend here, too. And I'm pretty sure that would taint your relationship."

Dean released her, and Ammit rubbed her neck for a moment, but she was smiling. Cas nodded to Sam, and the two of them grabbed her by her arms and put her in the chair. Then they put the chains and handcuffs on her, for good measure.

"Go ahead, lock me up," Ammit said defiantly. "I may be an eternal being, but Nicole isn't. She will wither and die soon, if you keep her here. I may not have any powers in your little mausoleum here, but Nicole's body is my playground right now. I could make her have a heart attack, or a stroke. I could drive her insane. Why don't you give me access to your library, for just a short while? Then I'll search your minds, and then I'll get out of your girlfriend. What do you say?"

"Bite me," Dean said angrily, and Ammit made Nicole's vessel laugh. "Funny. I already did that, last night," she said. "Don't you remember? You said you liked it."

Suddenly, the four of them were standing in the library area. "I didn't think we needed to listen to any more of her nonsense," Cas said, tight-lipped.

"We didn't lock her in," Sam said, but Cas gave him a patiently indulgent look, and then Sam realized how silly that was. This was the bunker, Cas was God, and Ammit wasn't going anywhere. But, that was the problem: Ammit wasn't going anywhere. How were they supposed to get her out of Nicole, then, if she refused to leave?

"Cas, can't you just exorcise her?" Dean pleaded with his friend.

"If she were just an ordinary Demon, of course I could," Cas said, looking chagrined. "So could you, or anyone else with knowledge and experience. But Ammit is a Demon Goddess, Dean. It will take a lot more than just a few Latin words. We will have to call in some assistance. Some expert assistance."

"Don't say it," Dean said warningly, putting his hands up in protest.

"We will have to call on Crowley," Cas went on.

"He said it," Dean said, frustrated.

"Dean, if you want Nicole back, we have no choice," Cas said sternly. "Do you think it gives me any pleasure at all to have to call on him? The individual who subjected Gail to all that torment in Hell, and then put that mark on her, intending for it to poison her? He was going to kill both Gail and Rowena in New Orleans, and he would have, too, had I not arrived when I did. So no, Dean, I don't want to call him for a favour. If Ammit were inhabiting almost anyone else, I would kill that person now, without hesitation. Gail promised Death that we would kill Ammit. Do you realize what a golden opportunity we are passing up, here? If Nicole wasn't the woman you love, there would be a very strong case for killing her, right now."

Dean was startled. "Who the hell said anything about - ?" Then he closed his mouth again. Cas had his serious God face on now, and Dean wasn't even really sure how he wanted to finish that sentence, anyway. But now was not the time to think about that. He'd think about that later, once they got that Demon bitch out of Nicole, and he could look her in the face again.

Dean sighed. "Make the call."

"Well, isn't this an interesting little turn of events," Crowley said smugly. "I've been looking for Ammit, and here you have her, all trussed up like tom turkey at Christmas. I'll just take her off your hands, then, how's that?"

"What you are going to do is exorcise her from Nicole's body, and then we will capture her essence. Then, we will discuss terms," Cas said stiffly.

Crowley gave him a baleful look. "It must be bloody marvellous to be you, Castiel. To strut around, giving orders as if everyone is beneath you. I am Ammit's King, and I will do with her as I please."

"And I am God, and I say otherwise," Cas said in his quiet voice. "The very fact that you are standing here right now and not a smoking husk on the floor should be proof enough that I do not always get what I want."

"Still, I see that Gail has your engagement ring on her finger again, so your life isn't all disappointment, is it, Castiel?" Crowley said coolly. "Maybe my sister will send me an invite to the wedding this time, since we have this close, familial bond. What do you say, sweetheart? Just how close would you like it to be?"

"Is there ever a time when you're not being disgusting?" Gail said with exasperation.

Crowley shrugged. "A man has to have a hobby, and my lessons in flower arranging don't start until next month."

"Storeroom. Now," Dean said angrily, and Crowley smirked. "Obviously, this Nicole is not dating you for your sparkling conversational skills," he said to Dean.

They all went to the storeroom, and as the door swung open, Ammit gasped. "Crowley?" This was unbelievable. She'd never dreamed they would bring him here. Her eyes narrowed. "You will regret this," Ammit hissed at them. Dean's eyes widened as her hands turned into claws, then receded to resemble human hands once more.

"Go ahead and change, if you want to," Crowley told her. "They know who and what you are." He approached the chair, stopping just outside the pentagram circle. "I didn't get your letter of recommendation, nor a note of apology for my having to re-staff and relocate the Lake," Crowley continued, gazing at her. She had a stranger's face, but he knew this was Ammit. "Don't expect a letter of recommendation from me for your next employer, either."

Ammit smiled grimly. "Don't worry, I won't need one. I'm going into business for myself."

"Oh, yes. You're going to locate two Books that no one's been able to find for aeons, and use them to shatter the glass ceiling, aren't you?" Crowley said, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Are you certain you want Death's job? I've never yet met the woman who wants to wear black 365 days a year. And have you SEEN Death? What a dour, lemon-faced geezer he is. You're so much more than that, Ammit. You used to be fun. Do you remember the good times we had in my office, when you were my secretary? We practically invented inappropriate behaviour in the workplace. You're the reason I had that couch put in my office. I got tired of sweeping everything off my desk."

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Dean gulped. He knew this wasn't Nicole right now, and he knew that Ammit would have been in a different vessel when those two had been doing whatever sick Demon stuff they'd been doing, but still...as Gail would say, ewwww.

"I could tell you some things about Crowley that would make you all sick," Ammit spat out.

"I highly doubt that," Cas said acidly. "Just as we know who and what YOU are, we know who and what HE is."

"You do, and you don't," Ammit said bitterly. "Yes, it is true: years ago, when I was Crowley's secretary, I seduced him. Or maybe he seduced me."

"You used me, to get ahead in my organization," Crowley said sharply.

Ammit smiled now, but it was a false smile, more irony than amusement. "Of course I did," she told him. "I'm a Demon. That's what we do. You wouldn't have respected me if I hadn't. But you used me, too, as a receptacle for all of your perverted - "

"I don't think we need any details on that," Dean broke in quickly. "Fine. We get it. You Lewinsky'd him."

"And did I not give you what you were after?" Crowley pointed out to Ammit. "I sent you down to the Lake, to apprentice under Bathshear. But, what thanks did I get for that? When Abbadon tried to take over Hell, you were one of her biggest supporters. Don't think I didn't know that. After everything I did for you, you still stabbed me in the back in favour of that bitch."

"After everything you did for me?" Ammit shrieked. "Oh, and what would THAT be, exactly? Sent me down to the Lake of Fire to apprentice under an evil, cruel taskmaster like Bathshear? He practically invented chauvinism. If I didn't do everything just right, exactly as he said, he would whip me, and worse. No wonder I backed Abbadon. She would have given me the promotion that I deserved."

"The Spice Girls broke up years ago," Crowley said sarcastically. "What did you think? That the two of you were going to bond over wine spritzers and 'Girl Power' slogans? Grow up, Ammit. Abbadon would never have promoted you. Any female high up in her organization would have been viewed as a direct threat. Especially one as lovely and...vivacious as you. Am I right, Castiel?"

Cas looked at Crowley sharply, but he said nothing.

"Bloody feminists," Crowley muttered. "If you want equality with men, try picking up a cheque, sometime."

"Oh yes, it's all very amusing to you, isn't it?" Ammit said angrily. "And why shouldn't it be? When Dean Winchester killed Abbadon and you got your Kingdom back, you had me taken to the torture wing for an extended stay just for spite, didn't you?" She glared at Dean. "When I was trying to decide which one of your circle to inhabit, I chose your little girlfriend here, because after I gleaned what I could from your library and all of your minds, I was going to mate with you one more time, then scoop out your heart and eat it. Of course, something that filled with guilt and self-loathing is bound to be a little bitter, so I was going to use your brother's blood to wash it down. Besides Crowley, I wanted to punish YOU, most of all." She smiled coldly at Crowley. "But don't worry, Your Majesty. Your time will come. You had better kill me now, or you'll regret it. If I get my hands on those Books, you'll be finished. Once I become Death, I will slow your influx of souls down to a trickle. And then, I'll come for you."

"Hold that thought," Crowley said to her. He looked at Cas. "Take us out to the library for a moment."

Cas eyed him warily, but an instant later, he did as Crowley requested.

"We need to kill her, now," Crowley insisted. "She can't be allowed to get those Books."

"Oh, yeah. Suddenly, you care about the Books," Sam said, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "You only care about your own hide. As always."

"Have we met? Of course that's what I care about!" Crowley retorted.

"It's funny, how many women have wanted to kill you," Gail remarked. "Let's see: Abbadon, your mother, Ammit, me..."

Crowley shrugged. "Can I help it if I'm irresistible? You know what they say about a woman scorned, don't you, sweetheart? If you're taking her story at face value, you've forgotten the first rule: Demons lie. We lie all the time. She's simply upset because I had some fun with her, and then I sent her on her way."

"Gabriel will be very disappointed," Gail said, shaking her head.

Sam's forehead wrinkled. "Gabriel? Why Gabriel?"

"He had sock puppets in the Crowley pool," Gail quipped.

Crowley did a double-take that would have been extremely funny under other circumstances. Still, Gail filed her quip and that moment as items to tell Gabriel about later. After a moment, the King said, "You know I'm right, Castiel. If we don't kill Ammit now, you'll all regret it."

"Look, we've been over this. You're not doing that, Crowley," Dean said angrily. "That's my girlfriend she's possessing. Just do the damn exorcism, already."

Crowley let out a frustrated breath. "All right. It's your funeral. And that's not a euphemism, either. Fine. Let's go, Castiel."

The others started to follow, but Crowley stopped short. "No. The three of you stay here. It'll be just me and the Lord, doing this."

"Why?" Dean demanded.

"Because I say so, that's why," Crowley shot back. "I'm about to drive a very vengeful Demon Goddess out of your girlfriend's body. It's not going to be pretty. If you ever want to look her in the face again, I suggest you stay here." Then he looked at Gail. "You, too. Especially you. Before we trap her essence, she'll be looking for somewhere else to go, and she's a feminist. Out of all of us, who do you think she'll be looking to inhabit next?"

Crowley and Cas walked to the storeroom as a stunned Gail remained behind with the Winchesters.

"Man, that guy had better not screw us, or I'll take him apart, piece by piece," Dean fumed.

Gail put her hand on his arm. "Don't worry, Dean. Cas won't let him get away with anything."

As Dean nodded, Sam tried to lighten the mood. "Sock puppets?" he said to Gail, raising an eyebrow.

Cas and Crowley were in the storeroom now, and the King looked down at the floor. He cleared his throat, gesturing.

Oh. Right. Cas took his blade out of his inside pocket and bent down, scratching the paint on the outer part of the circle. Once the Devil's Trap was breached, Crowley approached the chair where Ammit was bound, with Cas trailing close behind.

"We could do it anyway, you know," Crowley said to Cas. "You know it's the smart thing to do. Dean can easily get another girlfriend. If you let her live, it'll come back and bite you in the arse, Castiel. It always does, and you know it. Haven't you and Gail got enough problems as it is, without taking on more?"

Castiel's blade hand itched, because the trouble was, Crowley was right. He SHOULD just kill Ammit now. In fact, he should kill Crowley now too, while he was at it.

"Tut-tut-tut," Crowley said, shaking his finger. "I know what you're thinking about now, Brother. But you're forgetting about that little stamp on Gail, aren't you? Remember what it'll do to her, if you try to kill me?"

"What's he talking about?" Ammit asked Cas curiously. "Did Crowley put a Demon curse on her?"

Cas regarded her coolly. "I'm sure that's none of your business, but: yes. Yes, he did."

"And he told you that it would poison her, slowly and painfully, if you or any of your friends tried to kill him, am I correct?" Ammit continued.

"That's right," Cas confirmed, nodding. "Why? Why do you ask?"

She smiled slowly.

A short time later, Cas and Crowley came back out to the library area.

"It's done," Cas announced. He was carrying a black box. "I have Ammit's essence in here. Nicole is back to herself now, and I modified her memory so she would have no recollection of this entire ugly incident. She's back in the kitchen."

Dean rushed down the hall to see Nicole, and Cas smiled wearily.

"So, that's it?" Sam asked the men, somewhat rhetorically.

"That's it, Moose," Crowley said mildly. "Oh, there is just one more thing." He looked at Cas. "If you would do the honours."

As Cas approached Gail, he placed the box on the library table. "Don't touch that," he cautioned her and Sam. "It's very volatile."

"What are you going to do with it?" Gail said, eyeing the box nervously.

"Incinerate it, in Heaven," Cas said shortly. "But first, there is one more service the King of Hell is going to perform, before he leaves. This will only take a moment, my love." He put his hands gently on Gail's shoulders and turned her body so that her back was to Crowley.

"Castiel convinced me it would be...inadvisable if I were to consider showing up at your wedding," the King said wryly. "Still, in the interests of family relations - " Cas lifted Gail's hair, in much the same way as he'd lifted Nicole's, a short time ago. Except this time, he was a lot more gentle about it.

Crowley touched the mark he had put on Gail, said a few words in the ancient language, and it vanished. Sam looked on in astonishment. How the hell had Cas managed to talk Crowley into THAT?

The answer was quite simple: Cas hadn't. Ammit had.

When she had begun to smile like that, Crowley had realized that he was in trouble. When Ammit had pissed him off by throwing her support behind Abbadon, Crowley had threatened to put that same mark on Ammit, in case she had any ideas about getting her revenge on Crowley. Of course he'd known what he was doing when he'd sent her to apprentice under Bathshear. Bathshear had been a sadistic monster. No one extorted the King of Hell. No one. He'd had to teach his little chew toy a lesson. He didn't care how "empowered" the little bitch thought she was. And his threat had worked on Ammit, or so he had thought, until she had come back to him and told him that Abbadon had advised there was no such thing as an anti-assassination mark. And Abbadon was an expert when it came to Demon curses.

So when Ammit had caught Crowley running the same con on Castiel and Gail, her black eyes had shone with glee. But before she could open her mouth and tell Castiel the glorious news, Crowley had quickly said something in ancient Abyssinian that had made Ammit close her lips tight.

Luckily, Crowley's scheming, deal-making mind hadn't deserted him. He had told Ammit, in a language he'd known Castiel wouldn't understand, that she could be free, if they could strike up a three-way deal. And, because he knew he was hanging by a thread here, the King hadn't even made it sound like a double entendre. If Castiel found out that that mark on Gail was of no use whatsoever as an assassin repellant, Crowley would be dead, quicker than you could say "Jack Robinson". What he needed most right now was to stay alive, long enough to get out of this bunker.

Crowley had told Ammit that, if she kept her mouth shut about the mark, he would guarantee her safe passage out of here. Castiel was a hair's breadth away from smiting Ammit into oblivion. Look into God's eyes, if she didn't believe Crowley. He could persuade Castiel to stand down. If Castiel would let Ammit live, she would promise to deliver his enemies, Raguel and Vincent, to him. That, in turn, would benefit Ammit, because once Castiel killed them, she would be rid of her rivals for the Books. And, to sweeten the pot, Crowley would offer to remove the mark from Gail, once and for all. If Castiel were to kill Raguel and Vincent, Crowley would appreciate that, too. Not that Castiel owed him any favours, of course. But to show his appreciation, the King would remove the mark from Gail, gratis. A three-way deal. Win-win-win. Just leave it to Crowley.

So, Crowley had proposed the deal to both Ammit and Castiel in that storeroom, and after a moment's deliberation, they had both agreed to it. Ammit didn't trust the King of Hell, of course, but she could not discern a disadvantage to herself by taking the deal, either. She would gain her freedom, and she would gladly deliver Raguel and Vincent to Castiel for slaughter. She would have enjoyed seeing Castiel smite Crowley, but it would feel infinitely more satisfying to torture and kill him herself, anyway. And if she were to be set free from here, and her rivals for the Books would be vanquished, she could still have what she wanted.

But Ammit was being naive. Even though Castiel would have loved to have killed her now, to satisfy his obligation to Death, there was no way he would ever actually do it while she was possessing Nicole. The reason he had initially looked so murderous was because of Crowley. The King of Hell, waltzing in here with his sarcastic comments, believing he would be immune from any punishment for what he had done to Gail in Hell. How DARE he? Castiel wasn't as concerned with Ammit as he was with Vincent, or Raguel. Those two represented a far greater danger, as far as Cas was concerned. If Ammit was willing to deliver those men to him, shouldn't he allow her to live, for now?

So, the agreement was that Crowley would exorcise Ammit from Nicole's body, with no lasting harm being done to Nicole. Castiel would trap Ammit's essence in the soul-catcher that the Winchesters conveniently had in the outside part of the storeroom, and then Crowley would walk out to the library, remove his mark from Castiel's darling fiancee, and in exchange, Castiel would allow Crowley to leave the bunker alive.

Once the deal was struck, Crowley put his hand on Nicole's forehead, and he began to speak the Latin invocations that would expel Ammit from the vessel. Castiel opened the box in preparation to receive Ammit's essence. It had a combination lock that could only be opened by a sanctified individual, and Cas certainly qualified. He held the box in one hand, turning the dial with the other. The white glow came out of his fingertips, and the box sprang open.

Nicole's body started to jerk up and down, and black smoke began to issue from her mouth. Cas moved forward swiftly, capturing the smoke in the box. Then he slammed it shut, and the dials spun themselves, locking the box.

Nicole slumped in the chair, and her eyes were closed. Cas moved forward again. "Nicole? It's Cas," he said softly. "Can you hear me? Are you feeling all right?" She did not respond, so he asked her again, more loudly. Her eyelids fluttered. "Yeah, Cas, I'm fine," she responded. "Geez, you don't have to shout."

Cas allowed himself a brief smile. She was even starting to talk like Dean. He touched her forehead gently, modifying her memory, then sent her to the kitchen.

Now, after Crowley removed the mark from underneath Gail's hairline and Cas checked the area carefully to ascertain that it was gone, the King of Hell glanced at the box on the table, and then at Castiel.

Cas nodded. "It is gone. You are free to go."

Crowley wasted no time. He crossed over to the stairs, ascended them, and was out the door in mere seconds.

As Dean was sitting at the kitchen table where Cas had placed Nicole because it was the last location where she remembered having been, consoling his girlfriend, and Sam and Gail were looking at Cas inquiringly, Crowley was emerging from the bunker's door. He inhaled deeply, enjoying the smell of the summer flowers that were currently in bloom. The King of Hell joked about the subject all the time, but the truth was that he really did enjoy the appearance and the fragrance of most flowers. Maybe because Hell was so dank, and putrid.

He snapped his fingers, and suddenly, he was standing in Nicole's apartment in Vancouver. "There. How do you like that? Door-to-door service," he muttered aloud, a light smile on his lips. He bent down to Ammit's vessel, the brunette one that she favoured the most, which was laying in its crumpled state on Nicole's living room floor. Then he squeezed its face so that the mouth would open, breathing Ammit's essence from his own mouth back into hers. As her vessel began to become animated, Crowley gripped her by the back of her neck to steady her.

Once the last of her was expelled from Crowley's vessel, Ammit coughed once. Then she rose to her feet slowly, reeling a little.

"Steady on, sweetheart," Crowley said affably. "Now, remember our agreement."

"Which one?" she said tartly. "The one Castiel knows about, or the one he doesn't?"

"Actually, both," Crowley replied, smirking. "But especially, the latter one. So, let's go over that one. He thinks he's got your essence in that fancy Enochian puzzle box of his. Right now, he's telling everyone that he is going to incinerate you in Heaven. But what he's really going to do is tell everyone, after a short, suitable time period has passed, that he changed his mind. He wants to strike up a deal with you to deliver the other two to him. Then he thinks he will kill you, after he has vanquished the other two."

"But that WAS the agreement!" Ammit exclaimed. She was confused, now.

"Yes, and no," Crowley said, smiling enigmatically. "What I've done is to build in a couple of extra layers, for double protection. Mostly mine, but yours, as well. This way, you will get a head start, under your terms. You're in no way beholden to Castiel this way, but I suggest you don't renege. You wouldn't like him when he's angry."

Ammit's eyes narrowed. "How is any of that protecting YOU?"

"I'm not done yet," Crowley told her. "I also did you one other favour. When I was steadying your vessel, I removed that pesky little tattoo from the back of your neck. Lucifer is so...over. And now, you won't need to worry about giving yourself away to certain other parties."

Now, she was on high alert. "What's the catch?"

Crowley nodded with approval. "You're quite right, my dear. There IS a catch. I replaced that silly mark with one of my own. The same kind of tracking spell we just removed from the back of my sister's head. I can assure you, though, that the one on the back of your head is fully functional. When you are ready to deliver up Castiel's enemies, you will contact me first, not him. I, and I alone, will know your location. Therefore, if Castiel wants his big fish, I must remain alive in order to facilitate the transaction. And if you try to double-cross me by contacting Castiel directly, you will deeply regret it. That mark contains twice the deadly poison that Gail's did, and I assure you, yours will not be an easy death. Enjoy your freedom, sweetheart."

Ammit's hands turned into claws, and for a white-hot instant, she pictured how sweet it would be to launch herself at him and tear him into pieces. But right now, she would be the loser in any physical confrontation, and she knew it. She would just have to think of a way to outmaneuver him, somehow.

She vanished without another word, and after a moment, so did Crowley.

Cas stood in front of the incinerator in Heaven. He had lied to Crowley when he'd said he was going to let Ammit go. Why should he? They could find Vincent and Raguel on their own. They were already halfway to finding Vincent. Now, he would be able to report back to Death that Ammit was no more.

He opened the box.

\- END OF BOOK 35. -


End file.
